


The Stripper and The Alcoholic

by Oceanblue_82



Category: The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-02-06 18:16:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 24,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12823278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oceanblue_82/pseuds/Oceanblue_82
Summary: Connor McKinley is the most flamboyant stripper Orlando has seen. He puts on extravagant shows every night that catch the eyes of many men. But one man is particularly intrigued. And his name is Kevin Price. Kevin is messed up in more ways than one, but hey - isn't everyone?With his obnoxiously persistent roomate, an intresting group of ‘80% Mormons’, an alarmingly intimate relationship between his friends, and an alcoholic, how will Connor ever manage to live a regular life? (Or as regular as it can get when you make your living off being naked.)





	1. The Knocker

Connor was wiping down the wet tables when he heard rapid knocking at the door. He sighed and set down the glasses he was holding on a nearby table before mouthing ‘We’re closed’ to the tardy customer, not bothering to examine who he, or she, was. 

He turned around and continued to clean up, grabbing a dirty dish towel from his back pocket and wiping off the chairs. While the night ended for most people around two am, for Connor it just begun. Being a waiter in this part of town was extremely time consuming and whatever precious minutes he had left were spent vigorously studying. Sleep was not a priority for him and most days he ran on just one or two hours. 

The knocking continued, louder and harder this time. He tried to ignore it by humming a song and trying to come up with words that rhymed with ‘orange’ (he couldn’t find any), but eventually the persistent knocking drove him insane. 

“Sorry we’re closed for today. Come back tomorrow. And learn to read a freaking sign.” Connor said while rolling his eyes, his back facing the door. 

He returned to the dishwasher and began unloading freshly-clean cups and plates onto an open cabinet. His two minutes of peace and quiet was interrupted by The Knocker who was practically throwing himself at the glass door, so desperate to get in. 

“Oh what the ever-loving fuck do you want?!” Connor yelled while throwing open the door. He heard a thud and looked around surprised to find nobody in sight. It was only when he looked to the far left that he saw who he assumed was The Knocker. Connor was surprised that The Knocker was not one of the straggling drunk bums who usually came at this time, dying to get a drink and trying to pick up way-too-young girls. Instead he was a tall, young, well-shaved guy with black hair that swept over his brown eyes in a dramatic way. He wore a grey vest over a light blue button up shirt and long black slacks. The only thing about him that was disheveled was his hair and his tie that had come undone. Connor’s heart skipped a beat. 

“Are you a tourist looking for directions?”

Nobody that good looking lived in Orlando. People who looked like that lived in New York, worked for modeling agencies, and took photos 3/4 naked on a white beach in Cancun. 

“No.”

“No, you’re not a tourist or no, you don’t need directions?”

“No to both.”

Connor’s heart skipped a beat again. He had to be a tourist, or a foreigner at least. Maybe from Britain or Australia. Those guys were known to be super hot. 

“Well if you don’t need help, leave. We’re not serving anymore.” 

“Actually, on second thought, I am a tourist,” the man said with an obviously fake British accent. 

Connor laughed and shook his head, still mesmerized by the tall man’s complexion. “Sir I’m sorry. I’m afraid I cannot serve you.”

“Please?” He pleaded, his eyes drooping and his mouth in a cute pout. “I won’t even drink anything. I’ll just stand longingly looking at the alcohol.”

Again, Connor laughed. “You lost your accent.”

“Sorry,” he said throwing it back in his voice. 

Connor weighed his options. Technically he was supposed to keep him out. He could lose his job if he broke a rule. But there was no way Connor would ever let a man that handsome get away. 

“Fine,” he said while holding open the door. “But I don’t know what you expect. I’m not gonna pay any attention to you at all.”

The man walked in, leaned against the clean counter, and dragged his pointer finger across it. Connor trusted him enough so he left him alone for a bit while he ran into the supply closet to get a broom and dustpan. 

It took him a while to locate the items in the cramped moldy supply closet. He found them eventually, shoved behind piles and piles of dishrags, mops, and various other cleaning supplies. He was excited to get to know the mysterious man. What was his name? Where did he work? Why was he out at this time and why was he so desperate to get in the bar? But when Connor returned, broom in one hand dustpan in the other, the man was gone along with a very expensive bottle of vodka imported from Russia and two glasses. Connor felt beyond betrayed. He shook his head angrily and vowed to never, ever trust a man that good looking again. This would be the last time anyone made a fool of Connor McKinley. He locked the door to the bar and put the key safely in his front pocket before walking to his dormitory. 

His dormitory was in what was considered a perfect location. It was less than a five minute walk from school and only fifteen minutes from work. It was near a lot of food trailers and affordable restaurants, had its own parking space, and had a pleasant view of an artificial, yet beautiful, lake surrounded by petite bushes and tall trees. Plus, it came with the perk of a roommate. Connor was lucky enough to have a spectacular roommate, James Thomas, who was attending University of Central Florida on a Liberal Arts scholarship. Though they rarely saw each other during the day, they were good friends and respected each other. James knew to never ask Connor why he worked night shifts at a gay bar even though the student bar was closer and Connor knew never to eat the last Pop-Tart, even if the world was about to end. 

There was a red piece of tape on the front door meaning that Connor wasn’t allowed to enter James’ room that night. He probably had picked up a significantly younger guy and was now doing him in the room next door. He felt kind of bad for the younger partner. To them, James meant the world but to James, they meant nothing as he would move on to somebody else the next day and by lunch, already have forgotten their name. 

Because he was older, James got the bigger of the two bedrooms meaning that Connor had to cram all his stuff into innovated nooks and cabinets so it would fit. This was challenging, especially with the enormous psychology textbooks he lugged around. Connor sat on the end of his bed, knees shoved into his chest and analyzed the textbook in front of him, skimming through notes until he had basic ideas down and knew the most probable way to answer a possible question. Sometime later he fell asleep in a way sure to cause back problems with his book as his pillow.


	2. Work Clothes

His alarm clock didn’t ring the next morning causing a bewildered Connor to leap out of his bed in an anxious and nervous flutter. His red hair was a mess beyond fixing, so he just lazily ran a comb threw it, threw his work into a bag, stuffed a stale piece of bread into his mouth and raced out of the dormitory, letting the door slam behind him. 

School was pretty normal as far as school days go - long, stressful, and full of work. Connor was lucky to have an hour and a half break between   
Psychology 3 and American Literature. Usually he spent the free time in the library, a small nook with a large glass window overlooking the whole campus, but when his phone buzzed, telling him he had only one hour left to turn in his paper for American Literature, which he had completely  
forgotten to do, he just went back to his dorm. He didn’t want to deal with the rest of the day. Even though later that day he had musical theatre, one of his favorite classes. 

As expected, James was home when he arrived. James had a tendency to skip classes a lot which Connor knew for sure couldn’t be good for his scholarship. 

“Well you’re here early.”

“Nice to see you too,” Connor grumbled while sitting in a chair and shoving his forehead against the table. 

“Hey why so grumpy, Kiddo?” 

“Don’t call me that. I’m only two months younger than you.”

“Well what’s up?”

“I forgot about the deadline for an important paper and now it’s due in twenty minutes. I don’t know if I should just submit it late or rush and turn it in now. Or maybe I could just drop college and find a job somewhere.”

“I don’t think that the market for bar tenders at gay bars is very large.”

“Ha ha,” Connor laughed even though he wasn’t really laughing. 

“Don’t use that tone of sarcasm with me. I know that there’s something wrong besides the whole late paper thing.”

Because Connor was too tired to fight, he gave in and told James about the man who stole the expensive vodka and the two glasses. James listened attentively and gave awful advice about dressing up as a police officer that went in one ear and out the other for Connor. 

“Well,” James said while eyeing his watch. “I have got to go-“ he winked seductively “-get the catch of the day if you know what I mean.”

Connor knew exactly what it meant. And Connor wanted to stay away from it. He got up and went to his room to put on his work clothes. For normal people, ‘work clothes’ meant something along a grey and navy blue color scheme, maybe a tie and a pressed shirt. But Connor was not a normal person with a normal job. He didn’t have normal work clothes. His work clothes consisted of short black shorts and a   
fluorescent-pink sequined bow tie over a white collar. That was it. No shirt, no shoes, and, since the shorts were so short and tight, no underwear. To most people, the outfit would have been past scandalous but he was used to it. It earned him money and sometimes, if he was lucky, landed him with another guy around his age who was drunk enough to find him attractive. 

 

He threw on a black coat with pink lining - courtesy of the bar because it wasn’t socially acceptable to run past a college campus in an outfit like that - and left, writing a note to James that he had gone to work early. 

*

“Nice to see you here on time for once,” the owner said while handing Connor a dirty rag to wipe down tables with. 

The bar owner was a sweet African man named Mafala with an even sweeter daughter named Nabulungi. They had escaped their awful lives in a dangerous village in Uganda when Nabulungi was only seven. The two were able to leave before things got too ugly with the war lords, but not everyone in their village was lucky enough. Most were killed from either bullets or lethal infections after the only trained doctor in the area died of maggot infestation in his genitals. 

“Say, have you seen that bottle of Russian vodka?” He asked while squatting down and inspecting the bottles one by one. 

Connor’s stomach twisted into a thousand knots. He gulped slowly and tried to look natural as he told a lie. “Can’t say that I have.”

“Hm I must have let Naba borrow it last weekend.” He stood up and scratched his head through his knitted beanie, flashing his toothless grin at Connor.   
Connor couldn’t help but smile back. 

“Well I’m gonna go, okay? You know how to run this bar well.” He smiled bigger than Connor thought was possible. “I got a date!” He threw Connor the keys, which he safely zipped in his coat pocket.

Around 11, people started to show up. Connor decided it was time to “start the show” as Mafala called it. Slowly the main lights dimmed and neon strobe lights came to replace them. 

“Lesbos and gentle gays,” Connor said into a microphone while standing on top of a black table in front of the alcohol. “Are you ready to get the night started?!” He whipped of his coat, revealing his kinky outfit. The crowd whooped and cheered in response. Connor smiled and turned around, swaying his hips to the music in an exaggerated way. He thrusted into the crowd and heard a group of horny boys shriek. 

If there was one thing that Connor was good at, it was entertaining. He really knew how to put on a show. He made elaborate drinks, got hot boys to stuff dollar bills down his tight pants, and even snagged a couple of phone numbers. One young boy around 17 didn’t have enough money to pay Connor so he offered to pay him with a blowjob, which Connor happily accepted. 

But all throughout the night, the only person Connor could think of was the mysterious man and how he had the courage to show up, manipulate a stranger, and steal alcohol. It wasn’t fair. 

At 1:55, Connor put on his ending number - a complicated pole dance. The crowd cheered and clapped along to the music. It was by far one of the best outcomes of the performance and he never wanted the night to end. But soon the crowd dwindled down and he had to close the bar. His younger   
co-workers had already gone home so he was stuck with the annoying task of   
cleaning up. Again. This time he worked twice as fast, flying from table to table as he wiped them down. When he was done, he put on his overcoat and was relieved to find the keys still in there. He locked up the bar and went outside, ready to walk home. 

“Care for a drink?”

Connor turned around so fast that he got a head rush. Behind him was the man from the previous night, vodka in one hand, two glasses in the other.

Connor gasped and his hands flew to his mouth. 

“I could have called the police on you.”

“But you didn’t,” he said, standing up from his leaning position. 

“But I could’ve. You have a lot of guts showing up here.”

The man laughed. “Guts and good looks, a motto I live by.”

“I never said you have good looks. Don’t get so cocky.”

“Yeah, you might not have said it, but you were thinking it.”

“How would you know?”

“Because everybody thinks it.”

Well he wasn’t wrong. Connor put on a tough face and straightened his back to make him look taller and more intimidating. 

“Give me back the alcohol,” he said while sticking his hand out. 

The man pondered and eventually stuck out the glasses. “Let me treat you to a drink.”

“You can’t treat me if you stole it from me in the first place.” 

The taller man pouted. “Touché.”

“Give. Me. Back. The. Alcohol.”  
Connor repeated, firmer this time. 

The man laughed and sat down on the concrete steps in front of the bar. Reluctantly, he handed Connor the bottle. 

“It’s closed.”

“Huh?”

“The seal is still closed. You haven’t tampered with it at all.”

“Well of course not. I’m no thief. Now let me buy you a drink.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you want to buy me a drink so badly. You’ve come here for the past two days and I’ve neglected you. I treat you like shit whenever I see you and yet you still showed up again. Why?”

The man sighed and ran a finger through his hair. “You’re hot, I’m horny. You got skills with your body, and I’ve got money. Pretty self explanatory don’t you think?”

Connor was silent. He could feel his face getting as hot as the sun by just replaying those words in his head. ‘You’re hot. You’ve got skills with your body. You’re hot. You’ve got skills with your body. You’re hot. You’ve got skills with your body.’

“So? May I have the pleasure of buying you this drink?”

“Yes!” He said way too quickly. “I mean, that would be nice.”

“That’s what I thought you’d say.”

Connor fished out his keys and unlocked the door. He led the man to a black table, shined down so much that you could see their reflections. Two glasses clinked on the table and the man poured them each a shot. 

He drank quickly, firing one shot after the other while Connor took his time, paying more attention to the man than to his drink. They talked a bit, the man more than Connor. He laughed at something, although Connor didn’t know what. 

Suddenly the man pulled out three crisp one-hundred dollar bills and set them on the table. Connor’s eyes grew wide. 

“S-sir that drink does not cost that much.” 

“Oh I know. But spending time with you does.”

“W-What?”

“You know what I mean.” He winked and reached under the table, putting one of the hundred dollar bills into Connor’s shorts, just like those boys had done before.   
Connor’s pants tightened. He crossed his legs.

“Well It’s my time to go. Hopefully I’ll see you later.”

“Take me home with you.” It was impulsive but it was what he really wanted. 

He laughed. “It’s too soon for that. Maybe another time, maybe another time.”

“But I don’t even know your name!”

The man grabbed a pen from the inside of his jacket and scribbled something on the third bill before folding it and handing it to Connor. Then he left, blowing a small kiss, and leaving him all alone in the bar. 

When he was sure he was very far away, Connor slowly unfolded the bill. A name and a phone number stared at him. 

Kevin Price


	3. There’s A Stalker At The Door

Kevin didn’t come back the next day or the day after that. Or the day after that. In fact it had been almost a week since he had shown up at the bar and everyone could tell it was affecting Connor. His usually joyful look seemed to be gone and his bright, crooked smile had become dull and more like a frown. The few times he did smile, it was forced and strained. But while everyone wondered what was wrong with him, nobody bothered to check in or ask about it. That is until James cornered him in his room. 

“James get out of the way. I need to go to school.”

“No you don’t. What you need to do is call whatever whore is keeping you upset and tell them to get their ass over here so I can slap them.”

“He’s not a whore, James!”

“He practically tried to buy sex from you.”

“That makes me the prostitute you dumbass!”

“And it makes him gross!” 

“James, I do not want to have this conversation with you at the moment or ever!”

“Why not? I’m a fucking expert!”

“My story with Kevin is ours to figure out! Not yours.”

“Oh so he has a name now? What was it again, Kevin?”

“Kevin? Uhh no! It’s Kevinosky. A real diehard Russian. He came back to get ‘the vodka of the motherlands’.”

“Kevinosky my ass. Hey what’s that bill sticking out of your pocket?”

Connor shoved the bill into his pocket and gritted his teeth. 

“It’s nothing.”

“‘Nothing’ sure looks like one hundred dollars to me,” James smirked. 

“Yeah well maybe you’re just seeing things. Shit it’s 10:43. I’m late. Move.”

With the side of his shoulder, he shoved James aside and huffed as he jogged briskly to the theatre building. All throughout his trip, he chastised himself. 

“Kevinosky? What were you thinking, Connor. ‘Oh yeah don’t mind me, just walking through getting ready to steal vodka, oh by the way my name is Kevinosky.”

“Excuse me, who are you talking to?” A man maybe a year younger than Connor asked. 

“My, uh, mom,” he responded, even though he hadn’t spoken to her since she found out about his job. It wasn’t like he put a ton of effort into contacting her, but he thought it was a mother’s duty to love her son no matter who he loved. 

“You’re not on the phone,” he challenged. 

“Yeah well technology has advanced.”

“Not that much.”

“Who are you to actually stop me and bother me so much. Get a life.” 

“I’m Chris Church. Single and interested.”

“Connor McKinley. Revolted and taken,” he lied. Well, at least about the taken part. He truly was revolted. Who flirted with guys by stopping them in the middle of their conversation with themselves? It was almost as bad as, well, stealing a bottle of vodka only to return it later along with three hundred dollars and a sort-of date. 

“C’mon at least give me your number,” the stranger insisted. 

Connor huffed and took out a piece of paper. On it he wrote James’s number. Maybe he’d enjoy this clingy weirdo. 

He waved an awkward goodbye as the man promised to call him that night so they could set up a date. “Yeah right,” Connor thought but didn’t say a word. 

When he was sure the weird guy was far away, he pulled out the bill. The ink had smudged a bit but he could still clearly make out the letters and numbers. He held his breath and dialed the number. 

“Kevin Price speaking. How may I help you?”

“Hey Kevin, it’s Connor.”

“I’m sorry, who?” 

“The bar tender? The one who wanted to come home with you?”

“There are many bar tenders who want to come home with me. You have to be more specific.”

“The one who you stole vodka from? Jesus, Kevin how could you forget me so easily? I spent days just thinking about you and you don’t even remember me? Y’know what, forget I called you. Just forget it.” He slammed the hang up button and wiped small tear away with the back of his hand before turning around and heading straight back to his dormitory. Who cared about school anyway? 

*

When he was  
one-hundred-and-fifty percent sure that the bar was properly cleaned and locked, Connor turned around to go back home and hopefully study. 

“I didn’t forget you, you know,” a familiar, yet sinister voice said behind him. He didn’t even have to turn around to know who was talking. 

“Then why would you say you did? Do you just like to play with my emotions? Am I just a toy to you?”

“No.”

“Then why do you just constantly mess with me?” Connor finally had enough courage to look Kevin in the eye.

Then, for only a small moment there was silence. 

“I think I should be leaving,”  
Said Kevin. 

“I think so too.”

Before he left, Kevin reached out and slid his knuckles down the side of Connor’s face, an almost sad look in his eyes. Connor told himself not to react, but he couldn’t help the fluttering feeling all over his body. 

Kevin turned around and walked away shamefully, leaving Connor with a burning feeling of guilt and sadness. Then he left too, returning to his dorm as he originally intended on doing. 

Upon arriving, he noticed a figure at the front door. Not wanting to deal with any human interaction, Connor went around the building and climbed up a tree that coincidentally was right in front of James’s room. He cracked open the window and carefully entered. 

“Don’t you dare move I’ve got a sharp knife and I’m not afraid to use it!” 

“James what the fuck?! It’s just me!”

“Connor?”

“Yeah who the hell did you think I was?”

James lowered the knife. “I don’t know. Some person called me a million times and said he knew where I lived.”

Oh yeah. That guy. So maybe James wasn’t into stalker personalities. Who knew?

Just as he said that the doorbell rang. 

“Don’t open it!” James yelled at a startled Connor who was somehow midway to opening the door. 

“Why not?”

“Because it’s probably the creepy stalker guy.”

“At two am?”

“You never know.”

“This is ridiculous. I’m opening the door. You can wave your knife to look intimidating if you want.”

And that’s exactly what James did as Connor opened the door. 

“Hey you!”

“Oh non-existing god it’s you. James, lower the knife.”

Connor stepped aside to reveal an eager Chris at the front door. 

“Holy smokes,” James whispered while eying down Chris. Please come in.”

“James we need to talk. Without you, Chris.” He pulled James away to a spot in their apartment that was hidden from Chris’s line of sight. 

“Jesus, Connor. What is it?”

“That’s him! That’s the stalker! Oh god I should have believed you.”

“Stop pacing you’re gonna make yourself sick. And who cares if he’s a stalker? I’d let anyone stalk me if I got to tap an ass like that.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“I’m sure you’d like to do the same thing to Kevin. Oh sorry, ‘Kevinosky’.”

“Shut up,” Connor said trough gritted teeth. “This isn’t about me and Kevinosky. This is about the fact that there is an actual potential stalker at our front door at two am and all you can think about is tapping his ass!”

“Are you jealous? Just because men go to great lengths to get in my pants doesn’t mean you have to get salty. Now let me go meet this Chris.” He walked away from a puzzled Connor and back to Chris. 

“Hey Chris.”

“H-hi. I used to think Connor was hot but wow! You’re a lot better than him.”

Connor was sure there was smoke coming out of his ears. He turned away and locked himself inside his room. Just a few minutes later, he heard moaning from the other side of the thin walls. He cringed and brought the covers over his head so he could block out all the sound from the outside world.


	4. Skimming Rocks

If he had the power to go back in time, he would. Connor would willingly travel back and change everything. He would have gone to BYU like his family wanted. He would have remained part of the church. He would have continued to make himself like girls. He would have never dared work at a gay bar. He would have gotten married young, around the age of 23, probably to his neighbor, Mary Jane Irving - a pretty, smart, devoted girl who was still a bitch, and within a couple of years would have eight little Mormons running around on a green clean-cut lawn. He would have successfully completed his mission. He would have become a dentist or maybe a lawyer. He would have never met Kevin or Chris or James. He would have been miserable, but it wouldn’t been much worse than what he was feeling right now. 

Because it was MLK Day, he had the day off. Normally he’d spend the day trying out new things (for example, baking. He still had to figure out how to bake without almost setting his dorm on fire. How was he supposed to know that spoons weren’t microwaveable? He just wanted some soup!)or going on a walk or getting together with his good friend - and the only person he knew that actually remained Mormon - Arnold Cunningham. But today he remained still with his blanket raised up to his hairline and his will to exist completely gone. 

It wasn’t exactly useful to mope and cry, but he didn’t see another option to express what he was feeling. He felt absolutely... nothing. He wanted to cry but he didn’t seem to have any tears within him. He wanted to smile, but his lips wouldn’t move. His body wasn’t responding to his brain. It was like the bridge that connected the two was broken. So he just laid there, closer to death than he’d ever been. 

His phone buzzed next to him and with the force that it took to move an elephant, Connor grabbed it and checked the notification. It was from Arnold. An invitation to some get-together or something along those lines. 

He politely declined claiming to be swamped with schoolwork. Only a small part of him wished he hadn’t lied. Arnold told him that everyone would be there: Frank Michaels, Jeff Neely, and even Zachary Zelder who had flown all the way from Germany for this get-together. Connor sighed and told Arnold he’d meet him in Bill Fredrick Park in twenty minutes. He swung his legs over the side of his bed - almost hitting the wall because of the strangely close proximity to it - and stretched his back by yawning deeply and rolling his shoulders. He almost walked out the door when his eyes caught sight of himself in the mirror where he saw he was completely naked except for a pair of pink boxers. 

Embarrassed and grateful that he hadn’t walked out like that, he smiled at his reflection and threw on a pair of jeans, a baby blue shirt, and a brown leather jacket. He went to the kitchen. There was one Pop Tart left in the box. Connor ate it with delight. He was done  
listening to the rules. 

*

“Hey Arnold!” Connor yelled while waving frantically from across the green field. 

“Oh hi, Connor!” He rushed to him and tackled him with a bone-crushing hug. 

“Am I the first one to arrive?”

Arnold’s face turned an odd shade of pink and he started fidgeting with his fingers.  
“About that,” he said while unskillfully avoiding eye contact, “I may have told a teeny-weeny lie to get you to come.”

“Oh was Zelder not able to make it?” It was an old inside joke to call the former missionaries by their last name, as if they still belonged to the church that most of them longed to forget. 

“It was more than just him.”

“Michaels too? Was his flight cancelled?”

“Uh sure.”

“Well what about Neely?”

“He’s also absent.”

“Well then who is coming?”

“Okay so maybe I didn’t invite any of them and just used their presence to get you to come.”

Oh right. The compulsive lying problem. It honestly surprised Connor that he hadn’t been kicked out of the church. Especially after that whole “start my own religion in Africa” incident. 

“You did what?” A bewildered Connor asked. 

“Sorry! I tried to stop myself from lying so much but it’s just that James told me you were acting weird and you weren’t responding to him so I was desperate so I—-”

“Wait wait wait. James is  
Behind all of this?”

Arnold nodded. 

“Oh. Great.”

Connor squatted down onto a rock and started skimming some pebbles onto the water. That was actually a small talent of his - skimming rocks. He could make one small pebble bounce eight or twelve times. Arnold, on the other hand, was not talented in the art of skimming rocks. The rocks he tossed plunked in the water and caused ripples that really reminded Connor of the Target logo. He was truly awful. Connor told him he did a great job. 

“You should apologize to James,” Arnold said, breaking the silence. 

“For what?”

“For sending a stalker after him then getting mad at him when he actually enjoyed the stalker’s presence.”

“Yeah well... well it’s not my fault.”

“How on earth is that not your fault?!”

“He wasn’t supposed to actually like the stalker!”

“That is something beyond your control. You can’t get angry at him for that.”

“Well I’m not apologizing.”

“You’re not six, Connor. Man up.”

Connor shut up when he realized that there was no way he could form the situation to where he wasn’t the one who should apologize. He stepped away from the pond and took his phone out of his pocket. 

“Hey James.”

“Hi Connor.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know you are.”

“I’m having personal difficulties and it’s not fair that I’m taking them out on you.”

“Understandable. I forgive you. I was too once like you when I was younger.”

“You’re only two months older, James.”

“Hey! Respect your elders Connor McKinley!”

Soon the two were laughing again like old friends. Arnold tapped Connor on the shoulder and told him he was leaving and that his mission had been accomplished. Yes, those were his exact words. “My mission has been accomplished.”


	5. Threesomes Are Not An Option

“Surprise!” James yelled while uncovering Connor’s eyes. He had promised Connor advice on dating a while back. Now it was time to actually fulfill the promise. 

Connor opened his eyes to a laptop already logged in. 

“You’re kidding me. A dating website?” He groaned while looking at James in a   
you’re-an-awful-friend way. “I’ve already been on hundreds. They don’t work.”

“That’s because your profiles are so cringy. Nobody wants to date someone with a profile like that.”

“It’s not cringy!” He argued. 

James pulled up Connor’s Tinder profile on his phone. “Hey, My name is Connor. You can also call me Con-Man,” James read. “I like long walks on the beach and French kissing. Pink is my color. Winky face emoji.”

“Okay so maybe it could use some altering.”

“You don’t say...”  
He pulled a rolly office chair over to the kitchen table and went to the ‘create an account’ page of Tinder. 

“So for your username, you wanna do something simple and as close to your name as possible. See, people might go date a Connor McKinley, but only pervs want to date a CockSucker6969. Understand?”

Connor nodded and entered in the name ‘Connor_McKinley’. Miraculously, it wasn’t taken by the other Connor McKinleys of the world. He quickly typed in a password and was soon logged in. James took control, clicked on the ‘create a bio’ button and started typing away vigorously. As much as he tried to see what his friend was typing, Connor couldn’t see over James’s broad shoulders so he had to wait until James gave him power over the keyboard again. 

“Read it out loud,” James finally said while passing over the computer. 

“Will do.” He cleared his throat. “Whaddup. I’m Jared. I’m 19 and I never fucking learned how to rea—-Hey!” 

James laughed. “Fine, fine. I’ll redo it. That was a good one though.” He handed the computer over again. 

“I’m Connor McKinley. I’m 19 and a psychology major at University of Central Florida. I can be both a top and a bottom— WHAT?! There’s no way my bio is gonna say that I’m both a top and a bottom!”

“Well which one are you?”

“Bottom obviously.”

“Bam. Changed.”

“I still don’t understand why we need to state my sex position in my bio.”

“Because now people can just skip the whole ‘oh you top?’ conversation.”

“That’s... that’s actually kinda smart.”

“I know. I’m a genius. Now we just upload some photos of you that you took on your trip to  
Hawaii and... there’s your perfect Tinder profile. You can thank me later. Let’s get searching.”

The two browsed through an interesting selection of men ranging from fifteen to eighty. They were embarrassed at how long it took to find the “men my age” button. It was when they were scrolling through men around the ages of 19 and 21 when they found it - the perfect person for Connor to date. 

He was blonde and tall with a chiseled chin and a jawline so sharp, it could be used as a knife. His hair was cut so it barely tickled the edges of his eyes and his nose sloped upwards to contrast his emerald-green eyes. His username was ‘steve__blade.e’. 

“Look at him, James!” Connor yelped like a dog. As if James hadn’t already seen him. Even he had to admit this Steve was crazy handsome. “He’s perfect!”

“Then stop drooling over him and just send him a message you dumb fuck!” James was biting his nails and tapping his foot. 

“Geez okay. What should I say?”

“Just something simple like ‘hey’.”

“Okay.”

“Holy shit he responded!” They both yelled at the same time. Steve had answered surprisingly fast. 

Their conversation went like this: 

Connor_McKinley: hey

steve__blade.e: hi   
steve__blade.e: tell me something about yourself. 

Connor_McKinley: okay.  
Connor_McKinley: i work at a gay bar. 

steve__blade.e: kinky ;). i love bars. 

Connor_McKinley: you should come. i can give discounts for friends and family. 

steve__blade.e: am i a friend or a family?

Connor_McKinley: which one does boyfriend go under?

steve__blade.e: oh are we there already? i was going to ask you that over dinner at my place. 

“He is so smooth!” James said while looking over Connor’s shoulder at his conversation. “Ask him if he’s open to threesomes.”

“Ew. What? No. That’s gross. Besides, you have that stalker kid.” 

“Oh yeah I forgot about him. I should probably call him and tell him we’re through.”

“What why?”

“Because the possibility of a threesome with Steve is so much better than anything Chris could possibly do. That kid can’t blow to save his life.”

“That is so messed up! Don’t leave Chris, the poor kid.”

“I thought you hated Chris.”

“That doesn’t mean he should have his heart broken over your weird fetish. He likes you.”

“Ugh whatever. Hey you need to text Steve or else he’ll think you lost interest.”

Connor_McKinley: Blade, are you asking me out?

steve__blade.e: quite possibly so Connor McKinley. Do you accept?

Connor_McKinley: but of course. What’s your address? 

Steve told Connor his address and they planned their encounter for 8:00 that night.   
Connor couldn’t believe his luck. He had a date. 

“I have a date!” He announced while banging on the door of James’s room. “Help me choose an outfit, loser.”

“Connor McKinley wants my fashion advice? I’m honored.”

“Stop gloating and just find suitable clothes for me.”

“Ooh pushy. Are you sure you’re a bottom?”

“James!”

“Sorry.”

“Come on! I don’t have all day.”

He led James to his small, yet overflowing closet filled with all kinds of clothes. 

“Connor you need to clean out your closet. I can barely pick out a single shoe.”

“What are you talking about?  
My closet is immaculate!”

“Do you even know what immaculate means?”

“Yes. It means very disorganized but in a way where only the person who lives there knows how to decipher it.”

“That... that’s not what immaculate means.”

“Oh whatever. Just help me out. Time is ticking!”

“Fine!”

After many shirts being thrown out, three shoes bonking Connor on the head, and an awkward conversation when James found Connor’s missing hamster trapped and starving in a pink and blue sock that was apparently “too childish for any nineteen-year-old man to own”, Connor’s outfit was complete. 

It consisted of tight black pleather pants and a baby blue button-down shirt that cut off right at the edge of his tan line (mid shoulder). He wore classy black shoes and covered up the red parts from being bonked three times with the foundation that Chris had left in James’s bathroom. Apparently Chris had a secret side job as a drag queen, which Connor found both interesting and hilarious. He couldn’t imagine that wimpy, little, eager-beaver in stilettos and sequined dresses. 

“Take your coat, good sir,” James said playfully as if he was a butler holding out the coat that he wore every day. The black one with the pink lining. 

“Wait wait wait. I need a picture of you before you go on your first date.” 

“You’re not my mom and this is not my first date so therefore you are not taking a photo.” He put a thumbs up sign and flashed a smile before grabbing his key off the key hanger and swinging it around his index finger.

He had a date.


	6. Steve Blade, Lube, and Tarzan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has some sensitive stuff so if you think you’ll be disturbed, skip it. I’ll put a summary in the next chapter.

When he stepped outside, he was immediately hit by the pounding rain, which he had somehow managed to not notice. The Uber he called was flashing its tail lights so with one hand waving at the driver and one hand desperately trying to keep him dry, he ran to the car. 

The ride was silent, if you excluded:

A) the rain hitting the roof of the tin car  
B) a wailing police siren behind them  
C) Connor’s heavy panting and   
D) the Uber driver asking Connor if he needed an inhaler (the answer was no.)

At last they arrived at a tall, modern building that overlooked a busy street. He paid the driver and walked in. Steve had told him that he lived on floor 26, which was quite a way up. 

The elevator was outrageously slow but it gave Connor time to check every inch of his face in the reflection of the shiny buttons. At last the door dinged, as did his phone. A good luck text from James. He responded with a smiley face then turned off his phone and knocked on the door. 

Steve opened it. 

“Hi! Connor, I assume?”

“That would be correct.”

“Well don’t just stand out in the hallway! Come on in, you fool.”

He smiled and stepped inside. Steve had a nice apartment decorated with a white and gray color scheme that gave his old apartment a more modern look. He seemed to enjoy art, as there were many... odd paintings on his wall. 

“So are you into art?” Connor asked while twiddling with his thumbs and nodding his head towards the various paintings of torture and hell scenes. 

“Yes! Hieronymus Bosch, a great painter. Painted a lot of his visions of hell. He’s quite the inspiration. I wish I could do that and relieve some of the things I see in my hell dreams. It must be so relaxing taking the things you fear and change it into something beautiful. I have some drawings. Wanna see?”

He nodded and moments later Steve emerged from his bedroom with some rather graphic drawings that had human bodies shown to the point where you couldn’t even point out specific parts. Connor was shocked and scared, but he told Steve they were beautiful and really hoped he would put them away. Eventually he did and the two sat on Steves couch and ate some stale pizza that Steve found in the back of his fridge. 

Connor had to admit that Steve was a strange, yet likable guy. It was when he was deciding whether to stay or not that James texted him to know how the date was going. He was about to answer when Steve snatched his phone out of his hand. 

“Put it away.”

“Why?”

“It’s getting in between of our date.”

“Steve, it’s just my mom.”

“Really? You call your mom James Thomas?”

“Inside joke.”

“So it was your mom who messaged me on Tinder asking if I was opened to threesomes?”

Shit. He had told James to stay away from the whole threesome thing. 

“Steve just give me back my phone.” Even as he said it, he felt the deja vu of having a handsome man playing keep away with him. He really hated how repetitive this was getting. 

Connor sighed and got up.   
“I’m leaving. It was not nice knowing you.” He rattled the doorknob once... then twice... then three times but the door wouldn’t open.

“Why isn’t the door opening?”

“Because it’s locked.”

“Open the door.”

“No.”

Connor turned to face Steve but before he did, he took the last thing he had in his pocket and shoved it in his mouth. He didn’t know why, but it seemed like a good choice. 

“Steve please open the door.”

“Hmmmm no. You’re gonna call the cops.”

“I swear I won’t call the cops. Just please let me leave.”

“You swear you won’t call the cops?”

“I promise.”

“Even when I do this-”

“Oh my god is that a gun?!”

“Shut up.”

Connor shut his mouth. Partially because he was becoming quite aware of what would happen if the item in his mouth fell out and partially because it happens to be extremely difficult to argue with someone who is pointing a loaded gun at you. 

“Go.” Steve said while pointing his gun in the direction of what Connor assumed was his bedroom. He went even though his knees were shaking so much that they were practically hitting against each other. He didn’t stop. He walked until his back hit the wall and there was literally no space between him and the chipping paint. 

“You do realize we’re going to do it, right?” Steve asked while tossing his gun on the floor and taking off his belt. 

Connor gulped and squeezed his eyes. He pretended he wasn’t there. Why did he listen to James? He made a mental note to never, under ANY circumstances to listen to James again. 

“Take off your clothes.”

Connor slowly took off his shoes. 

“Faster!” Steve screeched. 

Connor had no clue that he was able to strip that fast. He wondered where that skill was when he still took gym. 

When he was standing in just his boxers, Steve told him to get on the bed. 

“Wait hold on. Can I just have a minute to get ready? It would really suck if you busted my genitals.”

“Fine. But that’s just because I like you. You have five minutes. The bathroom is on your right.”

“Thank you, Steve. My genitals appreciate it.”

“Take this. You’re gonna need it.” He tossed a bottle of lubricant to Connor. 

He made a mad dash into the bathroom and locked the door. 

There was a tiny window where he could technically fit through if he contorted himself so he kinda resembled a sardine. But even so, there was a really big drop. Not to mention the fact that the window was locked. 

“Three minutes!” 

He was desperate. He threw the lube bottle at the window. Somewhere far below, someone was probably very confused why a it was suddenly raining lube bottles. But that didn’t matter. The window was shattered and he had a way out.   
Connor thought that maybe he could scale the wall but even he knew that was a crazy idea. There had to be something...

The shower curtain! With strength he didn’t know he had, he ripped off the curtain and caught it on a piece of glass. 

“One minute!”

He launched himself like a torpedo and zoomed out of the building right as Steve opened the door. The shower curtain had lowered him maybe six floors, but there was still a huge drop. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a fire escape. If only he could make it. It almost seemed like he was magically falling... it’s because he was. Connor looked up to see Steve cutting the shower curtain. 

He panicked and swung his legs like he was fucking Tarzan and hurtled himself onto the fire escape. Later, Connor would see if he could take up a career in acrobatics. He was tired but he couldn’t stop running. He flew down the stairs on the fire escape and didn’t stop running until he was four blocks away from Steve. It was then that he fell to the floor, choking on the item he had forgotten he had in his mouth. He spit it out and reluctantly grabbed it. It was soaked, smudged, and disgusting. But he could still make out the writing. 

Kevin Price.   
With a phone number neatly printed underneath.


	7. Kevin Comes To The Rescue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the previous chapter: Connor goes to Steve's apartment for a date and almost gets raped. He manages to escape through the bathroom window and immediately calls Kevin to pick him up.

“Come on, come on!” He was cold and tapping his foot while screaming at a pay phone. Connor was surprised that he hadn’t been stopped by the cops. 

“You have reached the phone of Kevin Price. Sorry I’m not able to answer. I’ll get to you when I can. Please leave a message!” Beep!

“Hey Kevin. It’s Connor... again. I know I’ve called you three times but if you’re hearing this please help me. I’m sorry for everything I said I just really need you   
and—”

“Connor?” 

Connor sighed. Kevin had answered the phone. 

“Kevin! Oh thank god Kevin!”

“What do you want?”

“I need you to pick me up. Please.”

“Why should I? You treated me awfully.”

“I am so sorry Kevin. I really am. Can you just please pick me up? It’s so cold.”

“Where are you?”

“At the payphone between the   
K-mart and the dry cleaners.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes. Try to hang tight okay?”

“Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“No problem.” Kevin hung up and Connor sighed with relief. He sat on the curb and put his head between his hands and tried to figure out why the universe had put him in such a shitty position. 

Exactly ten minutes later, a bright blue corvette pulled up in front of Connor. 

He saw the black suede shoes before he saw the man in them. This might be because of Kevin’s unusually large shoe size or because of his tall six-foot-two figure.

“You look like shit. What the hell happened?” Kevin asked while tossing Connor a manly cardigan. He took it and shivered. 

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Well I do. And I’m the one driving the car.”

“Well it’s my story and it’s just a lot to think about and I really, really don’t want to talk about it so stop pressing the subject on me, okay? One day I’ll tell you but that day is not today. Okay?”

“Dude chill. You’re acting nuts. Are you stoned?”

“Yeah,” Connor lied. “That’s why I called you. I got high and had a bad trip. Tried to launch myself off a   
26-story-tall building.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know. If I did, I would never had asked.”

“It’s okay. Let’s just sit in silence for a bit, okay?” 

“Okay. You should close your eyes until we get you home. 

When he woke up, he was in a garage sitting next to Kevin.   
Because of recent events, Connor’s first reaction was that he had been kidnapped which resulted Kevin to get a sharp kick in the groin. 

“Let! Me! Out!” He screeched while clawing and thrashing around like a wild animal. 

“Connor! Connor! Calm down! It’s just me, Kevin.”

“Where are we? I wanna go home!”

“You’re in no condition to go home. I just took you over to my place for a bit.” He laid a hand on Connor’s shoulder to sooth him. 

“Don’t you fucking touch me! I do not consent! I will not take my clothes off for anyone! Not even you, Kevin Price. I have had enough of people trying to touch my body and—”

Kevin slapped him hard across the face causing him to shut up. 

“What the hell happened to you?”

There was uncomfortable silence while Connor searched in his mind for the correct words to say. How do you tell someone who is practically a complete stranger that you were sexually assaulted? What sequence of words accurately describe the feeling of terror that goes through your body when a gun is pointed at you, when you are forces to take off your clothes, forced to lose your virginity to a psycho? There aren’t specific words for that. None that Connor knew of anyway. 

“Can I tell you inside? It’s really cold.”

He opened the door and walked to the garage door that was partially open. It was only when he stepped outside that he realized that Kevin lived in a mansion. 

It was huge and off-white with blue and purple lights underneath giving off a spotlight effect. A marble fountain spewed water over smooth opal stones that lined a bridged pathway to the door. While it was hard to see because it was night, there was a huge garden with plush grass and blooming flowers. Tall trees filled with oranges and grapefruit loomed over a koi pond. There were marble columns that swirled and braided together to create huge arches. The house was easily four stories, maybe five. Connor had lost count of all the windows. 

“You can step in you know,” Kevin laughed while beckoning for him to enter. 

He did and was surprised that the inside was even more impressive than the outside. A cleaning lady took their coats. 

“Let’s get you something to eat, okay? You look like hell.”

They took a right and entered a modern lux kitchen. 

“You like pasta?”

Connor nodded and Kevin heated up a container of pasta with marinara sauce. He set two plates on a mahogany table and soon the two were enjoying a nice dinner. Connor hadn’t noticed how hungry he was until he started eating. 

“This is delicious. Thank you, Kevin.”

“No problem. Look if you don’t want to discuss what happened earlier, we don’t have to.”

“No I want to talk about it, I’m just not ready right now. I can tell you about other equally emotionally disturbing things from my childhood if you want. I mean you don’t need to listen, I tend to drone on. But there has been a lot of bottled-up experiences that I’ve been neglecting.”

“I don’t want to force you to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it. Hey can I crash here for the night? I don’t think I can go home after what happened today.”

“Yeah of course. Let me get someone to set up a guest room for you.” 

A room was set up for him next door to Kevin’s with a toothbrush and everything. A pair of red-and-white striped pijamas was laid on the bed. On the left side of the chest, a large C was embroidered in gold thread. When he asked Kevin about it, he explained that his older brother was named Cedrick. 

While it did feel a bit weird wearing Kevin’s brother’s clothes, Connor was grateful that he had something to wear and a nice place to stay.


	8. Fire Alarm Fiasco

Connor awoke to a fire alarm screeching. He sat up and threw his hands over his ears. The smell of smoke was sickening. He rolled off the bed started crawling on the floor in the direction of the door. He blindly stumbled down the stairs only focused on getting out alive. He didn’t exactly know where the exits were located because he was at Kevin’s house. Kevin! Where was he? Was he dead? 

“Kevin? Kevin?”

There was no response. Maybe he had burned to a crisp skeleton and —- why the hell was he thinking like that? 

“Can you shut the fuck up? I just wanted to cook some fucking pancakes!” A voice yelled from a couple rooms down. 

“Kevin?”

“In here, Connor! I’m not dying I swear.” 

Connor followed Kevin’s voice to a smokey kitchen with blackened walls. Kevin was shirtless and fanning away the smoke with a flyswatter. In a skillet there was a sad-looking pancake that was completely charred. 

“Jesus what did you do, Kevin?” Coughed Connor. 

“I tried to make a nice breakfast for you to wake up to. You’ve obviously been through a lot. You know, getting high and almost launching yourself off a building...”

“Oh. Yeah. Thanks.”

“No problem. Hey can you help me up? I need to disable this smoke alarm.”

“You want me to lift you up?”

“Yeah.”

“But I’m wimpy. I could drop you.”

“I’ve seen the shows you put on at the club, Connor. You’ve got enough upper arm strength to hold me up for a couple of seconds. And I used to be a gymnast. I know how to fall gracefully from high up. I’ll just stand on your shoulders. It’ll be fine.”

“Well if you insist,” Connor sighed while getting on his knees. He soon felt Kevin’s weight on him so he grabbed the man’s ankles and slowly rose to a standing position. 

“All good down there?” Kevin yelled. 

“Everything is great.”

“Take three steps to the left.” 

Connor did what Kevin told him to. Kevin grunted and stood on his tiptoes. The fire alarm was just out of reach. Connor’s grip on Kevin’s ankles tightened. 

“I’m almost there” 

“Good because I’m starting to get weak.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh no? Oh no? What happened, Kevin!”

“Don’t panic-”

“Don’t panic!”

“Don’t panic but the button on my pants broke.”

“Why would I panic about your button falling off?”

“Well,” Kevin explained “that button may or may not be the only thing holding my pants together. Which means that my pants are probably gonna fall off.”

“That makes no sense. Where the hell do you buy your pants?”

“I get them custom made by my seamstress! Italian leather isn’t cheap. So he makes pants from very little material. Just look him up. Oh gosh they’re slipping. Don’t look up.”

Sure enough, his pants slipped down to his ankles and over Connor’s eyes.

“Kevin I can’t see anything. Can I put you down?” Connor asked. 

“No, you’ll drop me.”

“But aren’t you trained in falling or something?”

“That was a lie.”

“You lied to me?! I should just drop you right now.”

“Drop me? Are you crazy? I’m over eleven feet off the ground. I could die.”

Connor started walking blindly to what he assumed was the right. 

“AHHHH!” Kevin screeched. “You almost chopped my head off. Careful with the knife rack.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t see, remember?”

“Is everything okay in there?” One of Kevin’s cleaning ladies asked. “Can I come in?”

“No!” Both boys yelled at once. 

“We’re uh... having sex,” Kevin lied. Connor slapped his ankle. 

“Oh okay. I guess I’ll go clean the pool.”

When her footsteps has receded, Kevin started laughing. 

“Did you hear the amount of confusion in her voice? That was hilarious!”

“Why the hell did you tell her we were having sex?”

“I mean we practically are,” Kevin explained. “You’re underneath me, gripping my ankles, and my all my clothes are off except for my socks and underwear. So you see, it’s almost like we’re having sex!”

Connor dropped Kevin on purpose.


	9. James Thomas: Dating Expert

James thought he was a genius. Connor hadn’t been home in almost two days. He must have been having a hell of a time with Steve. That’s when he heard a knock at the door. He rushed to open it, thinking it was the pizza delivery guy, and was disappointed to see Arnold frantically pacing in front of his door.

 

“Arnold? What’s wrong?” He said as he put his wallet down on a table in their makeshift foyer. 

 

“I don’t know what to do! I don’t know what to do!”

 

“Okay calm down and step inside.”

 

Arnold rushed inside and James shut the door behind him then leading Arnold to the dining room table.

 

“So what’s up Ham-Man?”

 

“I have a date and I don’t know what to do. What do I wear? What type of things do I say? How do I hold her hand without her thinking I’m gonna assault her? How many Star Wars references can I make without looking like a complete loser? How-“

 

“Calm down, Arnold. You’ve come to the right place. I’ll show you how to properly charm a girl. Let’s start off with the basics. What’s her name?”

 

“Oh! Uh,” he looked down at some smudged handwriting on his hand. “Neutrogena? No! It’s Nabajovi?” 

 

“You don’t even know her name? You’re a disaster.”

 

“I know,” he pouted and shrunk into his seat. Maybe I should just cancel the date.”

 

“No way! I’m gonna help you and then you’re gonna rock this. But first we just have to figure out her name. Where did you meet her? On a dating website?”

 

“No. I met her at that bar Connor works at.”

 

“What were you doing at a gay bar?”

 

“Getting a friends and family discount on my fruit juice. But anyway, I was going to pee and on my way to the bathroom, I ran into the most beautiful woman and I was absolutely sure she was gay - I mean what else would she be doing at a gay bar? - so I asked her ‘Are you a Lebanese?’ And then she laughed for a really long time which made me confused ‘cause what else would the L in LGBTQ stand for? But she told me she was the daughter of the owner… I think his name was Mufasa or something…” 

 

“Arnold are you sure this isn’t a modern version of the Lion King?”

 

“No no no. I’m sure this was all real. I got her number and everything. I just need to figure out her name.”

 

“We can probably look her up online. If we just look up the name of the bar... okay so the owner’s name is Mafala Hatimbi and his daughter’s name is… Nabulungi!”

 

“Yeah that’s her name! Nabuluigi.”

 

“No, not ‘Nabaluigi’. Nabulungi.”

 

“Nagasaki.”

 

“Nabulungi.”

 

“Nabatabahabanana.”

 

“That’s not even close. Okay repeat after me: nah-“

 

“Nah”

 

“Buh”

 

“Buh”

 

“Lung”

 

“Lung”

 

“Ee”

 

“Ee”

 

“Good! Nah-buh,”

 

“Nah-buh”

 

“Lung-ee”

 

“Lung-ee”

 

“Nabulungi”

 

“Nabeluga”

 

“Close enough. Also, just for future reference, the L in LGBTQ stands for lesbian not Lebanese.”

 

“Then what the hell is a Lebanese?”

 

“A Lebanese is a person from Lebanon, a country. Lebanese is a nationality not a sexual orientation.”

 

“Ohhh,” Arnold sighed. “Hey wanna see what I’m planning on wearing? I left it in my car.” Without even waiting for a response he jumped out of his seat and ran to his car. He returned later panting with a bag from the dry-cleaners.

 

“Ta-da!” He exclaimed while pulling out a pressed white button-down and black slacks. Around the collar was a black tie. In his other hand was a pair of shiny black shoes.

 

“Is that your missionary outfit?”

 

“Yup! Good memory there, buddy.”

 

“How could I forget that outfit? I was forced to wear it for over a year. But how come you want to wear your mission outfit on your first date?”

 

“This outfit has gotten me through everything. It got me through having all our luggage stolen, it got me through seeing my best and only friend at the time get another man’s blood on his face, it got me through starting a whole new religion in Gosh-knows-where, Uganda, and it got me through being ex - then re - communicated from our mission district. Man, it’s so lucky! You know, I haven’t washed it since we left Uganda.”

 

“Since we left Uganda?!” The taller man repeated. “That’s disgusting. How do you keep it smelling good?”

 

“I dumped a whole bottle of air freshener on it this morning.”

 

“Ew! Okay, there is no way in hell you’re going to wear your that. Just borrow one of my suits. I think I have a maroon suit that’d look good on you.”

 

“Thanks bud.”

 

He gave Arnold a perfectly trimmed suit to try on. It looked stunning on him. Arnold didn’t tell James, but he was wearing his mission outfit underneath. He gargled some mouthwash, gelled his hair, and practiced saying ‘Hello my name is Arnold Cunningham’ an embarrassing amount of times in James’ bathroom mirror. He was taught how to properly hold a girl’s hand and ordered a bouquet of daisies and roses to be delivered to her house along with a box of dark chocolates in the shape of hearts. James assisted him in cleaning out his car and Arnold almost cried when James told him to put his Yoda air freshener in the trunk. He spritzed on some cologne and made a reservation for a mildly-expensive fish restaurant on a sailboat. On his way out, he embraced James in an uncomfortably long hug. 

 

“Thank you so much, James.”

 

“No problem.”

 

“Oh and, uh, one more question before I leave: Does the penis go inside the vagina or does the vagina go inside the penis?”

 

James laughed and patted Arnold’s back before telling him to stay away from sex for at least three dates. 

 

He left and James smiled, feeling accomplished. Maybe there _was_ more to life than just screwing random boys and skipping classes. Suddenly the doorbell rang. It was almost as if somebody up in heaven was reading his mind. He opened the door to two young Mormon boys that reminded him of a younger version of himself. The taller boy adjusted his glasses and smiled brightly while the shorter one dived into his speech.

 

“Hello, my name is Elder Harold and I would like to share with you the most amazing book. It’s an all new addition to the New Testament about how Mormon Prophet Joseph Smith found golden plates in the ground and was visited by Angel Moroni. A real page-turner, I tell you. May I interest you in a copy?”

 

James smiled and took the copy from Elder Harold’s hand. “Thank you Elders. And good luck with the rest of your mission.”

 

The younger Mormons smiled - genuinely this time - and waved a goodbye before walking away. James shut the door and walked to the dining room table where he nibbled on a pop tart while diving into the story of Neophytes, Jesus, and Moroni. And suddenly he wanted to be a good Mormon boy again.

 


	10. Night Two

It was 6:31pm and Connor was enjoying himself in Kevin Price’s recreational pool. He had borrowed one of Kevin’s swimsuits and, with a bit of alterations, managed to make it not fall down every time he moved. Kevin was floating behind the minibar in the middle of the pool slowly making piña coladas. 

“Hey Kevin!” Connor shouted from across the pool on a unicorn floaty. “Come join me over here!”

“In a bit. Who do you think is making you your drink?”  
“Our time spent together doesn’t have to be centered around alcohol, you know.”

“So maybe I’m a bit alcoholic. We all have our quirks.”

Connor sighed, slipped through the center of the floaty, and swam over to Kevin. He quickly grew impatient and hopped over the minibar to join his friend. 

“What do you think you’re doing? This is my job.” 

“Scooch.” Connor replied. “Leave the bartending to the professionals. I do this for a living.”

In minutes, two piña coladas were made and the boys were lounging on espensive pool toys. 

“Let’s go to the hot tub,” Kevin abruptly said while sliding his designer RayBans onto his forehead. His cheeks were pink from the sun. 

“Okay.”

Kevin grabbed Connor by the wrist and led him to a heart shaped hot tub located by the south end of the pool. A motion sensor recognized the shape of Kevin’s foot and a shelf filled with remote controls rose from the ground. Kevin grabbed the one that was labeled “HT3” and hopped in to join Connor.

“Is the water a good temperature for ya?”

“It’s perfect.”

“Jets or no jets?”

“Jets would be nice.”

Kevin pressed a button on his remote and jets began bubbling. He leaned back and felt the pressure of the water roll over his back like a massage. 

“This is great. Thanks again Kevin.”

“You haven’t even seen the best part. Watch.” Kevin pressed a series of buttons on his remote and the water began to glow in a multitude of colors. Connor watched in awe as the water turned every single color imaginable. 

“You like this?” Kevin asked, leaning back onto his elbows.

“Very much. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Connor took a sip of his drink.

“This is my favorite hot tub in the house. It holds sentimental value. I’ve taken many, many virginities in this exact spot.”

Connor choked on his piña colada. “You’ve what?!”

Kevin laughed. “Yeah, 36 give or take. Have you swiped your V-card yet?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“C’mon there’s no reason to be embarrassed. Some people don’t do it until their thirties.”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“Look, I really don’t want to talk about it, okay?”

“Okay. Point taken. Jeez it’s almost eight o’clock. Time flies, huh.”

“Eight?! I should be getting home.”

“No, stay, please,” Kevin begged.

“I’d love to but James would be worried sick. I haven’t even made an attempt to contact him.”

“Let him be worried,” the quite-possibly-an-alcoholic argued, “He hasn’t tried to contact you either. Besides, how many times do you get the opportunity to stay at a place with seven hot tubs.”

“Fine, I’ll stay the night.”

Kevin cheered. 

“Can we eat dinner, though? I’m so hungry, I could eat a horse.”

*

The two were seated on opposite ends of Kevin’s dining room table since both insisted on being the head of the table. Kevin was eating steak and lobster made by one of his cooks with a glass of rosé. Connor was slurping his dinner out of a microwavable ramen cup. 

“You sure you don’t want some of my steak?” Kevin asked while waving around a piece of medium rare steak on a silver fork. “I’d offer you some of my lobster but it’s too good to give away.” 

“Thanks for the offer, but no. Also, I’m really worried for you. You’ve had at least four drinks today.”

“I’ll be fine, Connor.”

“Whatever.”

“You look cute when you worry.”

“Is this an attempt at flirting, Kevin Price?” 

“No. I can do much better than this. You saw what I pulled off at the bar. Now that was some expert flirting. And it even worked out in the end.”

“What do you mean by worked out?”

“Well,” Kevin said, sweeping his gelled hair to the right side of his face so it covered a mole he had right below his ear, “You’ve obviously taken some interest in me. Even if it was to be just friends.”

“Mm, true,” Connor said while slurping an abnormally long strand of ramen.

Kevin took a sip from his glass of wine, dissapointed to find it empty. He got up and returned with the bottle.

“You want some?” He asked. 

Connor shook his head no. Kevin shrugged and chugged the whole bottle. When it was done, he went to the kitchen again and returned with another, larger bottle. 

“Kevin, I really think you should stop,” Connor advised as Kevin unscrewed the cork.

“Why? Father has a million of these. He won’t notice if one or two go missing.”

Not wanting to argue with his host, Connor shut up and picked at his ramen but noticed the way Kevin was starting to change. He had become more panicky and wired. 

“And even if he noticed, he doesn’t care. And even if he does care, I don’t care. He practically abandoned me for my whole life. This is what he deserves,” Kevin slurred. 

“Kevin, I think you’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk! I’m trying to explain my life and why it isn’t as perfect as everyone thinks it is! Would you just listen to me?” A definitely-drunk Kevin screamed. 

“O-okay.”

“He was never there for me, I was always a disappointment to him. And he’d let me know. ‘An A-minus average, Kevin. You’re disappointing this family. Cedrick and Jack have an A-plus average. Do you know where you’re gonna get with an A-minus average? Community college at best. If you don’t get into an ivy league school, consider yourself all on your own. I won’t spend my time on failures.’ 

Did you know that once I got an 89 on an English quiz and he hit me? I was only ten years old! And do you think that was the only time he did that? No! He’d hit me when I didn’t come home before curfew, and when I stayed up too late, and when I had secret girlfriends, and whenever he thought I was having gay thoughts - which was at least once a week - when I quit football, and when I quit hockey because of the danger of harming my perfect smile. I learned to sneak in late at night and leave early in the morning. I spent the days in friend’s houses and the nights in bars. I still went to school and did my homework, but due to the lack of a place to work and concentrate, my grades were slipping. So I started bribing my teachers. Sometimes with money and sometimes with my body. I prostituted myself to please my father. 

I graduated valedictorian and got accepted to Harvard, but it didn’t matter because the next day I was to be sent on my mission. By then I had broken almost every rule in the Book of Mormon. I didn’t really think it mattered, it’s not like we were really religious. We pretended to be the perfect Mormon family, but in reality we were broken beyond repair. So right as I was about to board the plane, I ran out of the airport and hopped on a bus to God-knows-where. Turns out I ended up in Arizona. It was beautiful, but not what I wanted to see. I was young, rich, and able to travel anywhere in the entire world. So I went to Japan, Mexico, New Zealand, France, Sweden, Norway, London, Australia, Brazil, and Cambodia. But I was just running away from my problems like a coward. So I returned home and found a new interest in drinking. Man it was comforting. Cheaper than therapy and more effective. Healthier than drugs and wipes my memory just as good. 

Then one day he found me passed out in the liquor cabinet. I had never been so scared in my entire life. The way he yelled at me so loudly that the entire house shook made me quiver with fear. He grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and lifted me up so my feet were just hovering above the cold wood floor. And he hit me. Again and again and again. My face was bruised, my nose was bloody and my eye was black. I packed up and left, stealing Mom’s jewels from the family safe. I moved to our never-visited summer home in Orlando and got a job as CEO of Creative Management in Disney World thanks to my naked body. But I hate my life and I hate my father and I hate myself!” He had broken into sobs and collapsed in the leather seats. “I’m a mess, I’m a mess…”

“Oh, Kev,” Connor gasped, shocked at how vulnerable Kevin was in this position. He took in how broken Kevin was on the inside and felt a small part of his heart shatter in pity for the poor boy. He got up and carried Kevin bridal style to his bed.

“Please don’t leave me alone,” Kevin whispered.

“I won’t. I promise.” Connor crawled under the covers and spooned him from behind. The two laid in silence until Kevin’s breathing slowed down. When he was calmer, Connor started to speak.

“I was fifteen.”

“Huh?”

“When I lost my virginity.”

“That’s much too young.”

“I know. But he cornered me against a bathroom stall.”

“Who’s ‘he’?” 

“The manager of some restaurant I was working at. It was a shitty summer job and I got barely any money from the tips I made as bus boy. But anyway, I was going to wash my hands when he called me from the inside of his stall and said he wanted to discuss the possibility of a pay raise. I was young and naive so I joined him in his stall. He locked the door and grabbed my hand and placed it on his crotch. Then he told me to get on my knees. I was scared so I did as I was told. He unzipped his jeans and told me to suck him off. I started to cry. He slapped me and I stopped crying. And so I sucked him off, crying the whole time. When I was done, he patted my head and told me I was a ‘good boy’ before zipping up his jeans and going back to the kitchen. I stayed in that stall for the rest of the day. I was scared to move. I quit the next day.”

“I’m sorry”

“It’s okay. There’s not much that can be done now. The hard part is over. And I guess my story has a somewhat happy ending. He got arrested for sexual assault.” 

There was silence as both ex-Mormons stared at the exact same ceiling.

“I love you, Connor.”

“You’re drunk, Kevin.”

Connor waited for a response but Kevin was asleep and snoring lightly.


	11. Compromise

He woke up in messy linen sheets with a man next to him. It was everything he would have hoped for when he was five years younger. An unwanted memory of prom night rolled over Connor like a wave.

_He used to secretly wish that he'd wake up in the arms of a dashing young man that would hold him and kiss him and stroke his hair back away from his eyes. He used to go to the gym just to watch men sweating in action and imagine that they were sweating because of things he'd do to them, with their consent of course. Then he'd get up, run out, and drive straight to the church where he'd get down on his knees in deep prayer._ 'Please fix me, Heavenly Father. I don't want to be a sinner anymore. I want to be a good Mormon. Please fix me,' _He'd whisper. Heavenly Father didn't respond to his prayers. So he tried harder and asked the most popular girl in class to go to prom with him. She accepted and Connor's father never looked prouder. He had suspicions that his son was a homosexual but going to prom with a woman proved his suspicions wrong. Connor wiped his sweaty palms on his pants legs in the back seat of the rented limousine driving them to prom. Then he crawled on top of her and made out with her. His hand clutched the back of her neck and he wrapped his arm around her thin waist. She shoved his tongue in his mouth and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt. Later that night she was announced prom queen, Connor, prom king. He felt sick. Midway through their celebratory slow dance he excused himself and ran to the bathroom. There was a boy in his junior year checking his reflection in the mirror. Connor was overtaken by curiosity. He pushed the boy onto the wall and took his wrists in his hand. He shoved his face into the other boy's._

'Connor McKinley, are you gay?' _The boy asked._

'I think so. But I don't want to disappoint Heavenly Father.'

_The boy took Connor's crown off and placed it on his own head_. 'Well, you're sneaking behind your girlfriend's back to make out with a boy in a bathroom stall and,' _he pointed and Connor's pants_ 'You'll most likely break chasity tonight. You've already disappointed Heavenly Father, so why not make the most of it?'

_He tidied Connor's tie and fixed up his hair_. 'Go on and get back to your girlfriend. She's worried about you.'

'But I don't want to,' _He whined like a kid._

'But you must. Call me at midnight. I'll be around.' _He slipped Connor a piece of paper with his phone number on it._

_Connor called at exactly 12 o'clock am. It was an invalid number._

"Kevin," Connor whispered in his ear. His morning breath tickled the inside of Kevin's ear. "I have to go home now. Will you be okay?"

"I don't want you to go."

"I need to."

"No. Please stay with me. You're all I've got."

"You have my number and an endless amount of cleaning ladies. You'll be okay. And you can see me at the bar tonight." He threw on his borrowed jacket and tied his shoes. "I'll return you your clothes tomorrow."

"Keep them. They look good on you."

"Thank you."

"Wait. Before you go can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"How much did I tell you last night?"

"A lot of stuff."

"Did I tell you about the..." He mimed hitting someone.

"Yeah. You did," Connor said. He sat down on Kevin's side of the bed and patted his back.

"I'm sorry for breaking down on you."

"It's okay. It's okay to let all your feelings out sometimes." Kevin hugged Connor.

"Please don't tell anyone about this. Especially the part where I prostituted my way into high-up job positons."

"I won't. I promise. But I really do need to go now."

"I'll call you a cab."

"Thank you."

*

His bed was made when he got home and all his cigarettes were missing.

"James?"

"In the kitchen!" He followed the voice only to find James frantically tossing half of their pantry into a black trash bag.

"No, stop!" Connor grabbed the bag out of James' hand and pulled out their coffee maker. "What's this?"

"Our coffee maker."

"But why is it in a trash bag? Along with all our coffee filters?"

"Because it's a step in the right direction!"

"Towards what?"

"Towards pleasing Heavenly Father and getting sent to heaven."

"James what is going on?"

"You don't understand anything Connor." He walked to the dining room table, picked up the copy of the Book of Mormon that Elder Harold had given him, and waved it in the air. "The Book Mormon says that we should not indulge in sin and that even sinners can be saved. I'm bringing our dorm one step closer to purity. Maybe then Heavenly Father will see that we are good Mormons repenting for our past sins."

"But you're not Mormon, remember? You were the one that insisted on throwing eggs at the church and I had to hold you back."

"That was back when I thought I was banished from Mormonism. Cancelling a district means 'you're no good at this' to most people. But now I have my chance to rejoin the church. They want me back!" He kissed the Book of Mormon. "Hallelujah, they want me back!"

"No they don't. They just want more recruits."

James shook his head. "Just because you think religion is a scam, doesn't mean you have to talk badly about it in front of me."

"You're fucking insane."

"Don't curse in this holy home!"

"This isn't a holy home!" Connor screamed. "I'm not religious and neither are you."

"You are being a sinner, Connor. You're sinning and sinning and sinning all day long. You will burn in hell for all your sins."

"Stop it, James! You're not like this!"

"Yes I am! Why can't you accept the fact that I'm giving Mormonism another shot?"

"Because you were unhappy as a Mormon. You hated it and you cried yourself to sleep every other night while clutching the Book of Mormon. Why would you want to go back to feeling like that? Religion broke you into pieces."

"It was all a test. And now I'm gonna pass. Nobody can stop me, not even you. Which reminds me," He went into Connor's room and took out a large UPS box overflowing with clothes and knickknacks "You need to leave by tomorrow."

"Why?"

James scoffed. "C'mon Elder McKinley, isn't it obvious? You're gay. I can't be a proper Mormon and live with a homosexual."

"Okay one, never call me that again. And two, this has gone too far. I am not going to move out."

"Um, yes you are."

"Well I'm going to go to my room now and when I come out, we will figure out a solution."

"No I want to figure this out now," James set the box down and crossed his arms.

"Okay. You obviously feel very strongly about pursuing religion and I feel very strongly about staying as far away from religion as possible. If we both stay at our extremes, we will be at each other's throats. What about a compromise?"

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is that we'll respect eachother. From now on, I won't question your impulsive Mormonism and I'll smoke and drink coffee out of your sight. I won't talk about my nights at the bar and If I engage in any sexual activity with men, I'll go to a hotel. But you have to do some things too. You can't yell at me and harass me for being gay or throw out all of our coffee. You also can't tell me that I'll be going to hell or enforce Mormonism on me. Does that seem fair?"

"I guess so." The two shook hands and struck a deal.

"I'm going to change for work."

"May God bless your soul," James waved as he tucked the Book of Mormon into his pants pocket and headed back to his room.


	12. An Eventful Return

“Connor!” Mafala Hatimbi waved while running over to hug his favorite redhead. “Where’ve you been?”

 

“Family emergency,” He lied and pinched himself. He had started to pinch himself as a punishment for whenever he lied. So far he had lied twelve times and arm was starting to develop an ugly bruise. 

 

Mafala ruffled his hair and kissed the top of his forehead. “Well we’re glad to have you back. The bar hasn’t been the same without you.”

 

“I’m glad to be back. This bar is my only form of exercise. I’ve put on like, two pounds.”

 

“Ah, a little extra weight wouldn’t hurt ya, Skinny Boy. Here,” he shuffled to the back of the bar and threw Connor a wet rag “Help me wipe down this place before guests start piling in. Oh, when you’re done put an announcement on our Instagram that you’re back. I think people will be very happy.”

 

He laughed. “Since when do we have an Instagram?”

 

“Since two days ago. We also have a Twitter, a Snapchat and - how do you Americans say it? - a BookFace.”

 

“Do you mean a Facebook?” 

  
“What did I say?”

 

Connor laughed and shook his head. He posted on the club’s Instagram announcing his return and tossed the phone back to Mafala. He was surprised to learn that Mafala had also installed wifi and made merch promoting the bar. 

 

“These shirts are pretty hilarious, Mafala. Mind if I steal one?” 

 

“Of course! Take two or three! Take one for your roommate and your boyfriend too. We’ve got plenty of shirts. We also have hats and stickers.”

 

“Thanks,” Connor said as he placed a folded shirt inside of a hat and set it aside for after work. He didn’t bother telling Mafala that his love life wasn’t as active as many hoped.

 

“For you, Connor, anything. You’re a part of our family. Our small, happy family.”

 

“Thank you. I really appreciate you saying that.”

 

“Mhm. Hey I have to go take care of Naba. She’s sick with the flu.”

 

“I’m sorry. I hope she gets well soon.”

 

“She’ll be okay. She’s crazy in love with some boy, you know how she is. Every minute is ‘Oh Papa, you must meet him.’ ‘Oh Papa, he bought me the most beautiful roses.’ ‘Oh Papa, he is so funny and white as a snowman!’ You know him, don’t ya? Arnold Cunningham?”

 

“Arnold? Yeah I know Arnold. I didn’t know he was dating Naba.”

 

“Yeah. He better treat her right,” Mafala joked while putting on his knit beanie. “See ya tomorrow.”

 

“Bye!”

Connor got to work right away. He wiped lipstick stains from the night before off glasses and waxed the dance floor. The strobe feature needed to be reset so he did that too. When he was in the middle of sweeping behind the counter, the door jingled. Connor whipped his head around, thinking it was a burglar. Any burglar that would be dumb enough to rob the bar would be fucked. They had the police on speed dial and a number of weapons disguised as bottles of gin. Lucky for the intruder, they were not a burglar. Instead it was a tall man with good hair and a recognizable figure…

 

“Kevin?” Connor stopped mid sweep and let his broom clatter to the floor. 

 

“The one and only.”

 

“The bar isn’t technically open yet.”

 

“Ah, can’t you bend the rules for a friend like me?”

 

“If you recall, I have. Multiple times.”

 

“Oh once more won’t kill you. I’m trustable,” He said as he jumped onto the counter and posed. 

 

Connor rolled his eyes. “Last time you were here, you stole a very expensive bottle of vodka. Remember that?”

 

“Alas, I do and I thouroughly apologize for my immature actions. A bit too much alcohol if you know what I mean.”

 

Connor knew what he meant. He had seen some of the things people did under the influence of alcohol. They weren’t pretty. 

 

“Anyway,” Kevin said, picking up the broom that Connor had so gracefully dropped, “Let me stay. Please.”

 

“I can’t. I have a lot of work to do and it’s a health hazard to let people in before opening hours.” _Pinch._ Thirteen times.

 

“ _Please?_ ” He reached out, traced Connor’s jawline lightly, and cupped his chin in his hand.

 

Connor’s stomach exploded into a thousand fluttering butterflies. He squeezed his eyes shut and told himself to stop feeling those feelings. He swallowed and opened his eyes.

 

“Mafala would kill me.”

 

“Oh who cares what this Mufasa says?”

 

“I do. He treats me like a member of his own family.” Connor picked up one of the folded shirts underneath the counter and started slapping Kevin with it.

 

“Okay, okay,” Kevin said, waving a white napkin. “I surrender.” He walked out into the Floridian heat. “I’ll be back at 11.” He blew Connor a playful kiss through the glass door.

 

Connor blushed.

 

*

 

 

“Lesbos and gentle gays!” Connor sang his usual greeting into the microphone while stepping onto the counter in a thick black coat. The crowd went wild with applause. It was the biggest response he’d ever seen and he hadn’t even started the show yet. Mafala was right. The people did miss him. He wondered who was his stand in when he was gone. Or maybe there was nobody and they just played dance music without a stripper.

 

“Tonight,” he continued, dragging the words out to make the most out of the night “Is a night that you’ll never forget, I’ll make sure of it. You’ve all missed me, I know you have. You have to admit your lives are incredibly drab and boring without ol’ Connor. Whether it’s my physique,” He struck a pose. “Or my comedy routines, or you simply just love looking at me - which I know all of you do. Even the lesbians-” The crowd erupted in hearty laughter and Connor smiled while scanning the crowd for a certain friend - aha! There he was! “There’s just something that keeps you guys coming day after day. And I know it ain’t the drinks, so it must be me.” Again, the crowd laughed. Connor winked exaggeratedly. 

 

“I’m feeling especially adventurous and I need the help of a volunteer. How about… you!” He pointed to a man in the back of the crowd. “Come on up here!” The crowd lifted him and carried him to Connor. 

 

“Unbutton my coat.” The man did what he was told. Soon Connor was standing in his usual pink glittery underwear and the crowd cheered. “Oh, excited, aren’t we?” Connor said while looking at the man’s lower region. His face turned bright red. “We can fix this. Get on your knees. Good! Now stick your hands in my pants. Yes! Just like that! And now -” He slapped the man across the face. Hard. Then he took his chin into his hand and forced him to look into his eyes. “Silly you. Did you really think that you’d be the lucky one to take my virginity? I _am_ a virgin you know.” He pinched himself where he thought nobody would see. 

 

“Sorry for embarrasing you like that, love. I’ve got something for ya, hang on for a bit.” He grabbed a shirt and gave it to him. “On the house! And the rest of you can get one of these for only $9.99. Would you like to read what the shirt says to the crowd?” He asked while passing the microphone to the man who was blushing wildly. He murmured something into the microphone. 

 

“Say it louder for the people in the back!” Connor and the crowd shouted.

 

The man cleared his throat. “The shirt says, ‘I was almost fucked by Connor McKinley.’”

 

The crowd roared with laughter, applause, and people waving bills in the air screaming ‘I want one, I want one!’ Connor sent a waiter to collect the bills and give them their shirts, hats and stickers. 

 

When some people find out about his job, they look confused and are shocked by how he can embarrass himself like that nightly. He didn’t find it embarrassing. In fact, he thought quite the opposite of that. It made people happy, and that’s what mattered. He was good at it, too. He was almost a celebrity in the world of stippers. The only time he was embarrassed by his job was when he was on a walk/discussion with his psychology professor and one of his fans recognized him. He rushed over and begged for an autograph. Later Connor had to explain to his professor that he was a stripper at a gay nightclub. Talk about uncomfortable experiences. 

 

“I know you guys love me, so I guess I’ll return. But first, give it up for tonight’s band The Screeching Antelopes!” He went on his twenty minute break as the band started playing for the heavily drunken attendees. 

 

“Connor!” A waiter who liked to go by the name Butt Fucking Naked in the bar yelled. “Guess how many dollars we made just by selling merchandise?”

 

“Gee, I don’t know BFN. A hundred?”

 

“Try five hundred and sixty seven.”

 

“Holy smokes! That’s amazing! I gotta text Mafala.” He reached his hand into his pocket for his phone, only to remember that he’d left it at Steve’s place. “I forgot my phone at home.” _Pinch._ “I guess I’ll tell him tomorrow. Hey can you do me a favor?”

 

“Of course.”

 

Connor leaned in and whispered directions into Butt Fucking Naked’s ear. Then he drank a glass of ice water and went to take a small nap on a lounge chair Mafala had set up for him.

 

When he returned to the counter, almost everyone was wearing ‘I was almost fucked by Connor McKinley’ shirts. A large smile appeared on his face. He turned on the disco lights and started playing a popular song. In the middle of the song, Connor made an announcement.

 

“I’d like to get everyone’s attention please.” The crowd grew silent. “Thank you. Could Kevin Price please come up to the counter?”

 

People were murmuring as Kevin was helped to the top of the counter by people in the front row.

 

“BFN, could you change the light setting to a soft pink one? Thank you. Oh and play that song I told you about earlier.”

 

“On it, boss.”

 

“Thank you.” He turned his attention back to Kevin. With one hand behind his back and another extended palm up, he asked the classic question: “May I have this dance?”

 

“I, uh, don’t really know how to dance,” Kevin admitted. 

 

“That’s okay. Just follow my lead.” He took Kevin’s hands and placed one on his back and the other around his waist. He hugged Kevin in closer and started to sway from side to side as the first notes of Can’t Help Falling In Love came on. 

 

“Really? Elvis?” Kevin asked. 

 

Connor shushed him by placing a finger over his mouth. “Hush and enjoy the moment, Mr. Price.”

 

Around the second verse, Kevin loosened up a bit. Connor nuzzled his face into Kevin’s shoulder and Kevin let him stay there. 

 

It was a short song so Butt Fucking Naked looped it to play twice. This time the crowd swayed and sang along.

 

_“Wise men say only fools rush in. But I can’t help falling in love with you. Shall I stay? Would it be a sin, if I can’t help falling in love with you?”_

The chorus of drunken people singing was almost angelic. 

 

“Look at me,” Kevin whispered. Connor looked up. Kevin grabbed the back of his head and joined their lips together in a long, slow kiss. Connor kissed back, digging his hands into Kevin’s perfectly gelled hair. He pulled away and grabbed the sides of his head so that their foreheads and noses were touching.

 

“Kiss me like that again, Kevin Price.”

 

“Gladly.”

 

_For I can’t help falling in love with you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How would y'allses feel about a Falsettos fic?


	13. James Meets A Real Celebrity

The short love ballad was long over but Connor and Kevin were still engaged in a long embrace. A majority of the crowd had lost interest in them and had gone back to dancing but a few people were set on keeping up with the romantic duo. 

Kevin pulled away and made an announcement into the microphone. “Hello can you hear me? Yes? Good. I just wanted to tell all of you how incredibly lucky you are to be in the presence of Connor McKinley.” He put his arm around the shorter man. “I can assure you that Connor is the sweetest, handsomest, and most lovable man there is. He changed my life forever. He’s a blessing to us all.”

The crowd awed. 

“Just fuck already!” A woman in a ‘I was almost fucked by Connor McKinley’ hat yelled. Everyone laughed. 

Kevin turned to look at Connor. “Connor, to think that we met over my drunken ass stealing a bottle of vodka. You’ve seen me at my lowest point and you still cared about me enough to stay the night when I was beside myself with grief. Thank you. So I would like to make tonight even better by buying drinks for every single one of you! Woohoo!” He dumped his thick wallet into the tip jar and handed the microphone back. “As you were.”

Connor turned off the microphone and threw it onto the counter. He grabbed Kevin and smashed their mouths together, letting their teeth clank against one another in a rough, needy kiss. He shoved his tongue around Kevin’s lips and parted them, then moved down his neck, planting kisses until he reached Kevin’s bronzed clavicle where he sucked on the skin to leave a dark purple mark that would last for two to three days. 

“So you know that you’re mine and not anyone else’s,” he explained in a hushed, sexy tone. “Don’t leave me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Yo BFN, close up the bar tonight, would you?”

“Of course. Go have fun with Kevin.”

“You’re the best. If there are any extra tips tonight, keep ‘em.” 

Butt Fucking Naked smiled from ear to ear.

Connor grabbed Kevin’s hand and led him outside through the back door, grabbing his coat on the way out. The two walked in silence back to Connor’s dorm. When they were about a block away from his dorm, Connor realized how bad it must look for multi-millionaire Kevin Price. He tensed up.

“What’s wrong?”

Connor scratched the back of his neck. “It’s just that my dorm isn’t very impressive. Especially for someone that lives in a house with seven hot tubs. It’s small and cramped and I share it with a roommate. There’s a community dry cleaners next door and it’s fine, I mean I’m not saying that I’m poor or anything, but I don’t want you to be underwhelmed or think lowly of me.”

Kevin booped his nose. “Silly you. I’d never think lowly of you or anyone else.”

“Sorry I must sound so paranoid, like a loser.”

“Don’t speak badly about yourself.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“Hey, we’re here.” Connor led Kevin through the small doors of the dorm and up the stairs. He pulled out a key from his pocket and unlocked the door.

“James! I’ve arrived with a friend!”

The blonde Mormon rushed to the foyer and gasped.

“Oh my Gosh is that Kevin Price?!” He pulled out his copy of the Book of Mormon and a pen. “Will you sign my copy of the Book of Mormon?”

“But I’m not even Mormo-” Connor jabbed him with his pointy elbow to just shut up and make play along. “Do I know you?”

“Now you do! I’m James Thomas, but you can call me Pop Tarts!”

“Pop Tarts?”

“Because I love them so much!” He laughed his goofy laugh.

Kevin handed him back the book. “I must ask Pop Tarts, how did you find out about me?”

“On www.rateyourmormon.com. There’s so much good stuff about you there! You’re voted best Mormon and described as ‘The smartest, best, most deserving Elder the center’s ever seen’!”

“I am? Well that’s good to know.”

“Do you mind if I take a picture with you? I need to show my LDS group chat that I met an actual celebrity.”

Kevin posed for a photo and flashed his white teeth in a perfect smile. Satisfied with his picture, James texted it to his Latter Day Saints group chat.

By the time they arrived in Connor’s small, messy room, the two were starved for attention from the other. He had barely closed the door when Kevin pushed him against the door roughly and made out with him. His hands moved as fast as his mouth. They ripped off Connor’s jacket and made their way into his underwear as the other yanked on his hair. Connor had unbuttoned Kevin’s shirt to reveal his abs.

“Oh, fuck,” He gasped.

He undid Kevin’s belt and used it to rope him in even closer. If they were any closer, They’d be conjoined. He guided Kevin to his squeaky bed where he lay flat as Kevin kissed him down his front side. 

“Damn, Kevin,” Connor sighed. “You’re perfect. You make my body feel things. Oh Gosh, Kevin.”

Kevin sat on Connor’s chest and looked into his blue eyes. 

“Do you like me?”

“Of course I do.”

“Well I mean, Do you like me for who I am? Not for my money or because of how good a kisser I am, but for my true self?”

“I do.”

“Oh really?” Kevin teased while twirling a strand of Connor’s flaming orange hair between two fingers. “Stroke my ego for a bit. What exactly do you like about me?”

Connor propped himself up on his elbows. “Well, I love your smile, your laugh, and your body. But you’re more than just your exterior. You’re the funny man who has dark secrets deep down but acts like he’s rich enough to buy the entire world. You’re the flirtatious tease every gay teenage boy thinks about at night. You’re a spark of sunshine, but also the dark night; a mystery within a mystery. And those are just some of the things I like about you. Was that a good enough answer?”

Kevin blushed, kissed Connor lightly, and got off him.

“Mmm don’t leave me yet.”

“I don’t want to,” He yawned. “But I gotta sleep.”

“Sleep with me. Not in a sexual way, but snuggle me from behind and play with my hair until we fall asleep together.”

Kevin got in bed and Connor turned off the lights. The two snuggled each other as the sound of pure silence filled the room. The two remained quiet, in fear of breaking the powerful sound. 

Neither of the boys got any sleep.


	14. 80% Mormon

His eyes fluttered open, sticky with eye wax. Kevin was nowhere to be seen. Could it have all been a dream? No. There was no way his mind could warp the feeling of someone kissing him like that. And even if it could, the hickey on his hip proved otherwise.

"Kev?"

"I'm in your bathroom gargling your mouthwash." He heard a spitting sound. "Eugh this stuff sucks. Where'd you buy it?" He exited the bathroom in black Calvin Klein boxers. His hair was messy, but still amazingly attractive.

"At Publix. It was on sale."

"Remind me to get you new mouthwash asap"

"You don't need to. I just steal James' anyways."

"Doesn't James get pissed?"

"Nah. He steals Chris'."

"Well what about Chris? Does he get angry?"

"No. He just steals mine. It's confusing but it makes sense if you're into mouthwash swapping."

"I'm not."

"Darn, I was planning to take you to the international mouthwash trading convention in Miami."

"That's a thing?"

"No. I'm just messing with you. Now go get dressed before James finds you half naked and hyperventilates onto his bible."

"Why would he hyperventilate onto his bible?" Kevin asked while putting on one of Connor's shirts. It was faded red and was very form fitting.

"He became super into Mormonism lately. And he takes the no homo thing pretty seriously. I mean, he's cool about me being gay, but he gets panicky when I come home with guys and make out sexily without any clothes. It's strange, he used to be the one bringing home random boys home and doing them in secret."

"Oh."

"It's too quiet." Connor plugged his phone into a speaker and shuffled a playlist.  Take On Me came on and Kevin started bobbing his head. 

"I used to love this song," he said as he started dancing goofily. "This was my jam as a kid."

"Mine too. You wouldn't believe how many times I'd listen to this."

Kevin started getting more into his dancing, earning a cheer from Connor. 

"And you said you couldn't dance."

"I can dance, I'm just really awful at it. I feel like an elephant on a bowling ball."

Connor laughed. "Well you're the cutest elephant."

He stopped dancing and smirked. "Oh am I?"

"You are." 

"Well do I get a special prize for being the cutest?"

Connor kissed him lightly and wrapped his arms around his shoulders. "You get me. I'm the special prize."

Just then the door opened and James entered. Connor leapt away from Kevin and cleared his throat.

"James... hi. I'm sorry. I know about our agreement, but I thought you weren't home."

James sat on the bed and sighed. "No it's fine. I just miss this."

"Miss what?"

"I miss being able to kiss boys and not feel guilty. I miss Chris, but I still want to be a good Mormon, so I'm turning off my feelings like you used to. I can't lie and say that I don't miss that short kid. We used to have so much fun."

"Then get back together with him," Kevin chimed in. 

"God would not approve of that. How will I be able to be Mormon and gay? It's not possible. They give you such crap for it, that's why you left the church, right Connor?"

"He's right."

"But there's a happy medium," Kevin argued. "You can be the best Mormon ever, and still like boys. I mean, look at me. I liked boys a lot when I was a practicing Mormon and Heavenly Father still loved me. The thing about religion is that you can choose how much of it you want to follow. You could read the bible every night or choose to only celebrate Christmas, and you're still a good Mormon. You could be like, 80% Mormon. I say go tell Chris you still like him and tell your Latter Day Saints group that you're thinking of exploring your sexuality. If they react negatively, then you can join the other LDS group across town. They're very accepting to different interpretations of the Book of Mormon."

"That's not a bad idea James."

"I guess you guys are right. I'm gonna come out to my Mormon friends tomorrow! Thanks for inspiring me, Kevin! You really are the best Mormon ever."

Connor glared sideways at Kevin and motioned for him to confess to James. Kevin got the hint.

"James you see, I'm so honored that you look up to me and that you said such nice things about me, but I'm not Mormon anymore."

"You're not? How come?"

"It just... wasn't a good fit for me. I learned to give into temptations which in the end, felt much better than being religious."

"That makes sense. I'm gonna go think over some stuff in my room. Resume your kissing." And with those simple words, he got up and left. Connor closed the door and sat back down on the bed.

"Do you need a ride to work?"

"Isn't Disney super out of the way for you?"

"It'll mean more time with you so I'm fine with that."

"If you insist."

"I do. I'll call an Uber."

"You really shouldn't, Connor. You live so close to campus and I don't want to cause you any trouble. Besides, you're going to be late." He blew Connor a kiss. "I'll see you at the bar, okay?"

"Okay." 

"Connor?"

"Hm?"

"Everything will be alright. I know you're worried about James, but he's a strong kid and he'll learn to be okay with himself because we're here for him."

"I just feel so responsible for putting him in the predicament he's in. I was the one that introduced him to 'turning it off' and I was the one that introduced him to Chris. I put him in this mess and I don't know how to help him get out of it."

"it's not your fault, Connor. James has some personal issues that also impacted who he is today, like the death of his sister."

"How did you know his sister died?"

"On www.rateyourmormon.com. James was right, it is a very useful website. I have a gold-star status."

"Thanks for that bit of useless information."

"Hey! I bet you don't have 250 million followers. Let's search up Connor McKinley."

"No please don't."

"Oh come on, what's the worst that could happen?"

"Kevin please don't look me up, okay?"

"Whoops too late. I already clicked search."

Connor attempted to swat the phone out of Kevin's hand but failed.

"Connor, what are you so protective of?" Kevin clicked on Connor's file. "Oh."

He bowed his head shamefully. "Yeah."

"I'm so sorry. I had no idea."

"It's fine. How were you supposed to know that I'm hated by the church?"

"You may be hated by the church but that's no reason to call you all those things."

Connor shrugged. "Whatever. I'm over it now. I've spent too many days crying over shitty reviews some old twat wrote. They probably don't even know me and it's probably a joke."

"I don't think some of these are jokes. Look at this one: 'Connor McKinley is Satan's worker. His cultish and impulse ways have ruined the life and goals of many good Mormon boys. The only thing that can save him now is years of begging Heavenly Father to fix him. I hope he burns in Hell for the mess he created'... should I keep going?"

"No I already know that one. It was written by Elder Michaels' mom. But I don't care anymore. I know I'm so much better than all of them and so it doesn't bother me. It goes in one ear and out the other. I'm okay, I promise."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. And if you don't leave now, you're gonna be late."

"Right." He blew the shorter boy a kiss. "I'll see you later."

Connor waved goodbye and locked the door. When he was convinced Kevin was far away, silent tears rolled down his cheeks. He whipped out his phone and read all the awful comments about him. Each word hurt like a knife. He powered off his phone and impulsively threw it across the room before crawling back into his bed and wetting his bedsheets with tears. He couldn't let people see how much words hurt him. So he took a deep breath and whispered "turn it off" until his breathing regulated itself.


	15. James' Revolution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you haven't caught on by now, LDS stands for Latter Day Saints.

Damn it, James. It's not that hard.' the short and energetic Mormon whispered to himself while pacing in front of Elder Green's house. Elder Green was in charge of organizing the LDS meetings and assigning jobs to the other Elders. James' job was to bring the snacks, which he forgot to do... again. He took a deep breath and rang the doorbell.

"Elder Thomas! How nice to see you again! Do come in. Did you do your weekly scripture reading?" Elder Green asked with a large, forced smile that every true Mormon knows how to master perfectly.

"Yes of course I did, Elder. And, I'm sorry I forgot the snacks again. You should really get someone else to be on snack duty."

"It's no problem, James. But do come in. All the other Elders are here already."

"Oh perfect." He took off his coat and set it on the coatrack before joining his friends that were sitting around a mahogany dining room table with their copies of the Book of Mormon pulled out and flipped to page 255.

"Elder Thomas! Come over here, I saved a seat for you." Elder Smith said, pulling out a chair which had been previously used to rest his feet on. "We're discussing Nephi's interpretation on the tree of life. Do you have anything you want to add?"

"I, uh, think Nephi was a great dude."

"I'm sure we can all agree on that," laughed Elder Green causing a chuckle to emerge from the Mormon group.

"I'm glad we can all come to an agreement on something."

More strained laughter followed.

"Well anyway, I hope at least some of you have marked up important spots in your book, Elder White."

"I'm sorry Elder Green-bean," Elder White laughed sheepishly. "I'm not one for annotation. Plus the book is boring. We read it year after year and it's not like it changes. I've been reading the exact same book since I was born, what new meanings am I supposed to find in it 20 years later?"

"He does have a point," some of the boys murmured.

Elder Green frowned. "Now where's the enthusiasm in that? This is supposed to be a Mormon study group, but I suppose we can momentarily make it a therapy circle. Does anybody else have anything they want to share?"

James shifted in his chair uncomfortably. He didn't remember the room being that small... or Elder Green being so intimidating.

"I have something I'd like to share," Elder Smith spoke up, "I haven't read anything over the past two years. I've just been highlighting random phrases and looking up the chapter summaries on my phone."

"I smoked marijuana before this meeting and I have a small drug problem."

"I am addicted to watching The Bachelor."

"I'm super involved in politics."

"I used to curse at my parents and now whenever I get angry, I curse at my girlfriend."

"I drink black coffee every morning." 

"And I watch porn," Elder Brown admitted. "It just gets me sexually excited."

"So everyone here has just been sinning this entire time? Is there anything else anyone would like to own up to?"

James stood up and cleared his throat. "I've been having premarital sex."

"Oh come on, James. That's not a sin. We all have premarital sex." Assured Elder Smith

"With a man."

"Well I'm sure we've all tried doing it with the same gender once or twice." said Elder Zelder.

"Yeah," said Elder Brown.

"I know I have," Elder White chimed in.

"The Bible says man should not lie with man so when my hookup date and I do it, we do it standing up. It's complicated but I'm quite good at it." Elder Schrader eventually gave in.

"But it wasn't just once. Or twice. I've done it so many times almost every day. I've stopped now but I still want it. I want it a lot."

The room went silent.

"Are you trying to say that you're gay?" scoffed Elder Green.

He clenched his hands in a tight fist and took a deep breath. He had never actually told anyone he was gay. It was something that was always implied. "Well it felt pretty gay when Chris' dick was in my ass so yeah I would say that I'm gay."

"Elder Thomas that was a deep confession and I'm proud of you for admitting what is wrong. In fact I'm proud of all of you! We can get you guys fixed in a jiffy and then our LDS group will be back to normal!"

"Fixed? I don't want to be fixed," exclaimed a shocked James Thomas. "I confessed because I didn't want to keep it a secret anymore."

"Yeah, me too," The other Elders agreed, nodding their heads and frowning at Elder Green who was flipping through his own copy of the Book of Mormon rapidly and folding in the corners of all the pages that talked about their aforementioned sins. 

"But Elders, we are Mormons. We follow all the rules and if we sin, we apologize and fix ourselves as soon as we can. That's just kind of what we do."

"I'm aware. I'm still a Latter Day Saint. All of us are."

"But how could you be after breaking all those rules?"

"We're allowed to interpret it the way we want. And we can choose which rules we follow. Currently, I'm about 80% Mormon."

"With the amount of sinning you've been doing, It would be a stretch to even call yourself 2% Mormon."  
"Elder Green you take that back right now!" A very-upset Elder Schrader screamed.

"No way." Elder Green crossed his arms. James did the same.

"Okay this is getting a bit heated. I think we should all take a step back and talk this out." said Elder White. "We wouldn't want any hurt feelings now would we?"

"We're going to have a lot of problems if Elder Green tries to fix us. We don't need to listen to him just because he used to be a mission leader and because his great-grandfather used to be the president of the Church. We can do our own things now. We're grown men! And as a grown man I will call myself an Uber to get the heck - no, the Hell - out of here. I may leave all by myself and I may lose all my friends but that's okay, I'll just go to the LDS group across town. I've heard from Kevin Price that they're extremely accepting. Goodbye!"

"I'm going with him." Elder Brown said, rising to his feet.

"Yeah, me too." 

"So will I."

Slowly, every sinning, semi-Mormon filed out behind James Thomas, the now leader of a small kind of useless revolution against Elder Green.

"This is blasphemy!" shrieked Elder Green, red with rage. "Our meeting for next week is canceled!"

"We wouldn't have come anyways," stated Elder Smith.

"I'll... I'll turn you into the church! I'll tell them that you're foul and dangerous."

"But, dear Elder Green, we already decided that we're allowed to break some rules and still be Mormon. So telling the church all these things would be lying. And tell me Elder what does a Mormon never do?" James leaned in and smirked.

"A Mormon never lies." 

"That's right. Thanks for hosting the meeting but we're gonna go. Adios."

"Bye bye."

"Sayonara!" 

"Hasta Luego, Green bean. We're going to start our own bible study group that allows percentaged Mormons!"

"'Percentaged' isn't a word."

"Elder Green, let me tell you something I've been wanting to tell you for a long time," Whispered James "Fuck. You."


	16. Connor’s Fragil Sanity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really don't like the title of this story so I'm thinking of changing it. Comment suggestions, or tell me if I should just keep it the same. I don't know, it just seems generic and makes me cringe. Also, I'm very sorry for the sudden hiatus. I took a small break and I have about half a chapter of a Falsettos fic ready. Not to mention school and standardized testing. But now I'm back and filled with ideas! Also, I just saw BoM again and wow oh wow it was so good!!

"Connor! Hey buddy!"

 

Connor set down a damp rag on the counter and shook his head as the bells on the door jingled announcing the entrance of James and about ten of his Mormon buddies. "Nope, no way get out."

 

"Oh come on, McKinley. Please? For a friend?"

 

"I think you're forgetting that this is a bar. With - gasp - alcohol. Not to mention that this bar is for gay people. Two things your religion doesn't support."

 

James frowned. "Please?"

 

"No, James. You and your posse can go anywhere except here."

 

"Hm, I wouldn't call it a posse, more like a book club that only reads the exact same book over and over again."

 

"Fine. You and your 'book club' can go back to where you came from."

 

"Now there's the problem," Elder White dragged his feet on the scuffed wooden floor, "James told Elder green to eff off, only he didn't say eff. It was pretty epic but a bad idea in hindsight because now we have no clue where to hold our meetings."

 

"James suggested your bar."

 

"James, why the fuck," the Mormon book club members gasped, "sorry - heck - did you suggest my bar as a fun meeting spot for a group of goody-two-shoes Mormon boys? What part of your brain thought that would be a good idea?"

 

"We're not all goody-two-shoes, we're rebellious!"

 

"I watch porn!"

 

"Shut up,Elder Brown!"

 

Connor pulled out a stool and sat down, putting his head in his hands. "No. I'm sorry. Kevin is going to be here soon and he'll -"

 

"Kevin Price? The Kevin Price? Is he going to be here? Do you think he can sign my book?"

 

"Did you even tell them that Kevin isn't Mormon anymore?" Another gasp. "Jesus Christ - sorry: cheese and rice - do you guys have any other reactions besides moronically gasping?"

 

"I happen to find it cute." James beckoned for his pals to join him in a group huddle. They broke apart with an offer. "If you let us study here for today and meet Kevin Price, I'll give you a box of pop tarts and a good review on www.rateyourmormon.com!"

 

"I don't care about www.rateyourmormon.com because I'm not Mormon anymore! Get out of my bar, please. I had a rough night and I don't think I can handle a Mormon book club right now."

 

"Well where do you suggest we go?"

 

"There's a coffee shop down the street. It's quaint and cute and-"

 

"Are you crazy?" James hopped onto the counter and Connor shoved him right back off. "I can't take a group of Mormons to a coffee shop!"

 

"But you can take them to a gay bar? Your logic makes no sense. Besides, I won't even be here. I have a date tonight."

 

"Oooh, what's her name?" asked Elder Schrader.

 

"Uh, Kevinlina. She's from Norway."

 

"Wow Connor. You sure know a lot of people who's name start with K - E - V - I - N. Kevin, Kevinosky, and Kevinlina..."

 

"Goodbye James."

 

He huffed, turned on his heel and stomped away, his Mormon pals following eagerly.

 

"They're gone now." Connor said nudging a person behind the counter the minute the door closed.

 

Kevin stood up from his crouched position and stretched his legs. "Jesus, I thought they'd never leave. I feel persecuted. Like a convict or Justin Bieber."

 

"Or a cult leader."

 

"What can I say, Connor? Kevin Price is a big name now. Pretty soon, it'll be as recognizable as Jesus Christ and Oprah Winfrey!"

 

"Dream big pretty boy."

 

"Ha!" Kevin yelped so loudly that Connor almost dropped a glass. "You do think I'm handsome!"

 

"Obviously. Why would you doubt that?"

 

"The first time we met, you told me that you didn't think I was good looking."

 

"The first time we met, you almost made me lose my job."

 

"That's a bit of an exaggeration, don't you think?"

 

"You stole a very expensive bottle of vodka!"

 

"Oh hush. That's in the past now. Besides, it was worth almost losing your job."

 

"You egocentric loser."

 

"Tease me like that, why don't you?" Kevin winked and drank from a flask that was sticking out from behind his pocket. Connor rolled his eyes and thwacked him with a rag.

 

"Hey do you have any beer?" Kevin asked, rummaging through big glass bottles.

 

"You've had enough, don't you think?"

 

"Nonsense. Father would drink this stuff all day. He called it his magic power drink. It made him really strong. Strong enough to pick up Mom and me and Jack and Cedrick."

 

"Those are not behaviors a father should exhibit."

 

Kevin shrugged as he popped out a beer can from a pack of six. "Suppose it doesn't matter. I turned out fine."

 

"Clearly not. You have a drinking problem."

 

He threw his head back in laughter. "Good joke."

 

"I'm not kidding. You've had at least three drinks in the past fifteen minutes."

 

"It's what keeps me running, Connor." He put his hands on the shorter boy's shoulders and hopped off the stool, stumbling a bit on his foot. "You don't understand. You see - I have no reason to keep on going. I have enough money to stay unemployed my whole life and enough time to become a recluse. There's no point wether I live or die, because I don't care about anything on this earth. Everyone and everything is temporary to me. Except alcohol."

 

Connor pushed away and turned around.

" 'Everyone is temporary? I don't care about anything on this earth?' How could you say that? Is that what you were thinking as you kissed me? Were those the same thoughts running through your head when you shoved me against the wall shirtless, desperate for signs of love and affection? Am I temporary? Because when you put your hands on my pants it didn't feel temporary. When we cried side by side, sharing our darkest secrets, that didn't feel temporary either. I thought that maybe there was a small chance you liked me for who I really was, but I see you don't care. You just use me for the booze. And who cares if Connor McKinley gets crushed in the process?" He sniffled and wiped his nose on his sleeve.

 

"Connor, that's not what I meant."

 

"Bullshit! That's bullshit! I know you and your type. You just play off of gay guys to get what you want for free, even though you have the money to pay for it yourself. This is all a scam. You manipulated me. I should have known. I shouldn't have let you hurt me three times. Well I'll tell you something, Kevin Price. You're banned from ever coming in here again. You wanted something permanent in your life, well now you have it. Maybe this'll teach you to not be a dick to those who care about you."

 

"Connor..."

 

"Stop talking to me damn it! Stop talking to me because you make my heart swoon with every breath you take and I wish I could just turn off those feelings. Leave so I don't have to look at your perfect body and wish it was on top of mine, hoping that the 'I love you's you say are sincere." He was angry now, red tears dropped on his face, cooling down his hot cheeks. "Please," he whimpered between sobs, "stop making me suffer by wanting to to love you."

 

And a look of vulnerability passed over Kevin's face as he left in humiliation. He was scared. Scared because he had never hurt anyone he loved before. Scared because he didn't know what he'd do now that someone wasn't making sure that he'd keep his drinking problem in check. Scared because he knew he lost the boy he loved the most.


	17. To Keep Himself From Talking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Changed the name of this fic, hope you guys like it!

Arnold pulled up in the parking lot of the fanciest fish restaurant in Orlando. Getting there was a mess, Arnold being, well, not the best driver. In fact, the only reason they even made it to their destination was because they got towed after he mistakenly parked in an alligator farm. Damn, Florida. After an embarrassing incident like that, the kind tow truck driver took pity on them and offered to escort the pair to the restaurant. 

"We're finally here, NaBonJovi," He said, pulling up his pants and locking the car. He swung his keys over his shoulders but used way too much force; the keys flew into a decorative pond. "Don't worry. I got a spare." He brandished a shiny Yoda-shaped key. Nabulungi giggled. 

"Oh don't you look nice, Arnold." She grabbed his hand and placed a kiss on his cheek. 

"Yeah, okay let's get inside now. Wouldn't want to be late right?" He pulled away, flustered. 

"Arnold, we already are late. By two hours."  
But he never got to hear her because he had run ahead and bee-lined to the bathroom where he decided to hide and wait out the whole night. His second option was telling Nabulungi he suddenly decided to take an oath of silence. He'd do anything to avoid spending time actually talking to Nabulungi. 

It wasn't that he was a coward, he just didn't trust himself enough to maintain a conversation without lying. Plus, he couldn't have a repeat of of his first - and only - date where he lied about being a long lost grandson of the church president (that little incident led to a restraining order). And he couldn't disappoint Naba by convincing her he's something he's not. 

Truth be told, Arnold wasn't that interesting. He was a geek, a Mormon, a compulsive liar, and a little overweight. No girl had ever really taken an interest in him before and he'd never been kissed. His father told him that wasn't a possibility for him. But Nabulungi kissed him. Was she in love with him? She was smoking hot. And maybe the fact she kissed him was a sign from Heavenly Father himself. Should he marry her? 

Arnold shook his head and got out of the stalls, looked himself in the mirror and splashed some water on his face, which was wet with nervous sweat. His therapist once told him to hold 'confidence poses' (superhero poses as he liked to call them) to make him feel better and clear his head. So he put on his best Luke Skywalker face and after a minute, felt cool and confident again. He wondered if this was what it was like to be normal. He wondered if this was what it was like to be Kevin Price. But a knock on the bathroom door and a call from Nabulungi's sweet voice sent him running back to the small stall. 

"Arnold?"

"I... I'm busy."

"You've been in there for forty five minutes. I'm coming in."

"Wait what oh my gosh no! You can't do that!" He screamed, scrambling to lock the stall door. 

"Babe, my dad works in a gay bar. There's nothing you have that I haven't seen yet." She opened the door and knocked on the stall. Arnold opened up, but refused to make eye contact with her the entire time. "Come on, get up," Naba extended a hand. Arnold grabbed it and pulled himself off the toilet. 

"I'm sorry Nirvana. I'm just not the greatest guy to date. Someone as beautiful as you should be with someone great. Someone like Kevin Price. You know, he has a 5 star rating on www.rateyourmormon.com. I'm not gonna be able to tend to your needs. I mean, I'll get much more excited about seeing a cool Darth Vader cosplay than I would seeing you naked. That wasn't the right thing to say, was it?"

"Oh, Arnold. You're so silly. I like you. A lot. I want to be your girlfriend and I hope you feel the same way," Naba giggled. "I've seen many boys, many of them naked. But none of them are as sweet as you. You never change under popular influence. And that's what I love about you. You have a personality, a fun one. I don't understand anything you say about Star Wars and I don't even know why the stars are fighting, but you're so passionate about your fighting stars that it makes me interested in them." She grabbed Arnold by his shoulders and pulled him in close. Arnold was sweating. He wiped his brow. Nabulungi kissed him slowly. She closed her eyes and smiled, pulling away. 

"Oh wow, oh my, oh wow!" Arnold exclaimed, eyes wide. "I didn't even use the mouth wash James gave me!"

Nabulungi giggled. "It's okay, babe."

Just as she said that somebody opened the door and gasped loudly.

"Elder Green? What are you doing here?"

"I think the real question is what you're doing here, Elder Cunningham. With a woman nonetheless. You know the rules. Women can't be in male restrooms. That's how it's always been."

"But Nagasaki here is okay."

"Yes," Nabulungi said. "I know men just as much as I know women. I see them almost naked every single day. I've even seen white, Mormon boys like you almost naked. One of them strips for us. You know him, don't you, Connor McKinley?"

"Connor McKinley? Connor McKinley is a stripper at a gay bar? Oh how the people on www.rateyourmormon.com would love to hear about this! Not only is he a stripper, but he's a homosexual! This is a freaking gold mine!"

"No!" Arnold screamed as he swatted away Elder Green's phone. "That's, uh, a lie! Yeah I made that up to distract you from the fact that there's a woman in the boy's restroom. Yeah and then I got Nabortion in on it too. Yeah."

Elder Green squinted and scratched his head. Then he smirked. "Lying again, Elder Cunningham? I thought we had put that little problem behind. Now how would your father feel, learning his precious son has gone back to his old tendencies? I suppose he'd get angry. Maybe put you back in those... special classes."

Arnold's grip on the sink tightened as he gritted his teeth. "Father can't do anything to me now because I'm grown up and out of his house. And they weren't 'special classes'. I went to therapy because I was a compulsive liar, which is nothing to be ashamed of."

"Looks like therapy didn't really fix anything, did it? That's why you only have a 2.3 on www.rateyourmormon.com."

"Yeah, but I have a 5.0 on www.rateyourprophet.org."

Elder Green patted Arnold's head. "Oh silly, Elder Cunningham, that's not a real thing."

"Stop treating me like a child!"

"Stop lying!"

"Stop it, both of you!" Nabulungi screamed, pushing the two men apart. "I have had enough of all this pointless bickering!" 

"Oh, shut up and go back to Africa," Elder Green sneered. 

Naba took a step back, shocked. "Excuse me," she said, rolling up her sleeves and popping her knuckles "what did you just say?"

"I said to go back to Africa."

"Arnold, honey, watch my shoes for a minute."

"Oh no I'm terrified!" Elder Green said in a mimicking high pitched voice "whatever will I do?" But Elder Green couldn't deny the little beads of sweat that formed with every step Nabulungi took. 

She grabbed him by the shoulders with a surprising strength and shoved him against the wall so he could feel the cold tiles against his neck. "Listen here, White Boy. Let me tell you a story. There once was a little girl who thought she lived the perfect life in her little village in Uganda. But one day, when she was six, a mean scary General came and demanded for all girls to be circumcised. The girl was hidden into safety, but her mother was not. She refused to give in to the General's rules so he shot her in the face! And the little girl watched the entire thing happen. She couldn't even cry because if she did, she'd be caught. And this happened to almost everyone in the village! When she sneaked out the next day she learned that all her friends had either been killed or kidnapped and she was all alone. Luckily, her Papa had two bus tickets and after selling everything they owned, they made it to Orlando on the little girl's seventh birthday. In America, it was hard to start a new life. Her Papa had to go manage gay bars because that was the only thing that brought in money and many times they spent weeks with nothing to eat. As for the little girl, kids in school made fun of her for not knowing the language and for having funny teeth and a funny accent. She got in trouble all the time for using words only adults should use. It was very very hard for the girl and her Papa but they pushed through because they knew they could never, ever go back to Uganda. So they made America home. And we're grateful for everything that it provided them. Now let me tell you something, Elder Green. That is my life story! I'm the little girl!" She punched him, hard. "I made my life here and I'm a part of America, just like you are. And I'm strong. I'm strong, Elder Green. And you know I would've kicked your dick by now if I could find it. Guess it's too small."

"Go Nebraska!" Arnold cheered, clapping her shoes together. 

"Please... please let me go," Elder Green whimpered. "I'm sorry."

Nabulungi punched him three more times, until his left eye was black and bulging and until he was a sobbing mess. 

"Never mess with me or my boyfriend ever again."


	18. You Only Get The Hell Dream When You Break The Rules

"Connor?" James yelled with a hint of concern. "Come here and explain what the hell this is."

"If it's a letter from my mom, go ahead and shred it. I don't want another church pamphlet about how I can still be saved."

"No, Connor I don't think this is from your mom."

Connor groaned and made his way to the front door sleepily, he hadn't slept well in days and he couldn't believe James was waking him up for some stupid letter. But to say he was surprised about the contents on his front porch would be an understatement. "I... don't know what that is. It must've been delivered to the wrong address."

"There's a six-foot-tall teddy bear embroidered with your name. I don't think it's a misdelivery."

"James, have you been telling people I'm dead again just so you can get a discount at the student spa? Because we can't afford to have another fake funeral."

"No, well I mean I used that lie three months ago to get a free coffee at Starbucks, but if these are condolences, they're a bit delayed."

Connor stepped outside to survey what had been delivered. There were fourteen huge red rose bouquets from Bloom Florists, three teddy bears, seven boxes of expensive chocolates, and an enormous gift basket filled with champagne bottles, boy lotion, candy, mouthwash and glitter. In the middle of everything, there was a small white card. He reached over a bucket of carnations to grab it; he didn't even need to open it to know who it was from. Only one person would get him mouthwash in the midst of a romantic gesture. And he was repulsed.

"Well who's it from?" James asked, teetering with suspense as he tried desperately to look over Connor's shoulder.

"No one."

"It's clearly from someone, someone who cares about you very much. Hey why are you getting your phone?"

"I'm calling the post office to go return this stuff."

"Are you crazy?!" James yelled, grabbing the teddy bear and chucking it at Connor "you can't do that! Do you know how much it would hurt this person if you just returned it with no warning at all?"

"You're right. Maybe I'll send a 'thanks but no thanks' card."

"That's not what I meant and you know it. Connor, why are you acting so spoiled? Someone wants you to feel special and went out of their way to make you happy, and you show no gratitude at all. If someone did this for me, I'd jump in their arms and start planning our wedding. Look at our financial situation, man. I have to lie about you being dead just to buy basic things like hand soap and toothbrushes. And someone spends thousands of dollars to prove they love you. You can't decline that. I won't allow it."

"It's too late. The mailman should be here at six to pick it up. And if you really want to be in the situation I'm in, be my guest. Because tell you what, it ain't the perfect fairytale I thought it was gonna be. No, he just leaves me and tells me he doesn't care about anything except booze. Meanwhile my heart is beating like crazy whenever he walks by and I wish I could be on top of him, looking him down like he's the most important thing in the world - which I once thought he was but not anymore. I want him, James."

"The mailman?"

"No, you moron. Kevin."

"Then take him back."

"I can't. He broke me. He broke me over and over again, mending me carefully with tender soft kisses, building up our tension until one of us blew and the other was stuck behind picking up all the shitty pieces. It was a cycle and should've been stopped but I'd let him break me a million times because anything he does is so fucking incredible. It's not fair that he gets all the good stuff. The looks, the money, the way to flirt with boy's hearts. No, stop that Connor! You can't deal with that hurt again and again and again," He made eye contact with his roommate who was still trying to take in the concept that Connor could be potentially fucking _the_ Kevin Price. He'd give anything to do that (sorry Chris).

He looked into the distance, staring down the potted plant on their windowsill so his shorter friend wouldn't see him crying. Unfortunately, it did not work. James meandered his way to his best friend and hugged him from behind, wrapping his hands around Connor's stomach - the way that his sister used to do to him when he'd wake up panting, shaking, and screaming silently after a crude Hell Dream. He felt his friend's muscles slowly relax and fall into place the way they normally are.

"You know you're allowed to cry, don't you?"

Connor shook his head. "I'm done shedding tears over Kevin Price. He's not a part of my life anymore and I don't care about him. I mean why should I? It's proven to be pointless to pine over a bastard your whole life and that's not who I am. I am still Connor McKinley who is getting a psychology degree, who is best friends with James Thomas, who makes boys quiver with a simple touch. I can have any fucking boy in the world. I'm more than that what that idiot made of me."

Both boys knew that was a lie. Neither had any intentions of speaking of it.

"Connor?"

"James?"

"I need you to do something for me, okay? I need you to stop holding in all your feelings. Let them out for me, your best friend. I won't tell anyone - I swear. And the people who hurt you before can't hurt you now. The church does't control your feelings. You can finally really be yourself. I know it'll be difficult but please Connor," his voice dropped to a whisper "please try for me."

He sighed, his red hair sloppily falling over his eyes. James still didn't let go of his thin waist. "I thought I was getting better. I thought that now that I knew psychology, my brain would understand why I am this way. Why I have the feeling that my head is but a musty attic filled with untouchable boxes that better not be tampered with. I thought maybe I could fix myself. That's why I took psychology, James. To try to understand why I'm so screwed up. But no-can-do, pal. I'll never understand why I am the way I am. Why my childhood had such a severe impact on me. Why my mother only talks to me via church pamphlets. Why my heart beats to the sound of Kevin's name. These are questions only god can answer."

"I can pray for you if you want me to."

"You'd do that for me?" He asked breathlessly, turning around to place his own hands on James' fragile figure.

"Of course," He whispered in response, a sly smile tugging at his lips. He moved his hand up Connor back, under his shirt allowing skin to touch skin. Finally. "C'mere."

Connor obeyed. James hooked his hand around the back of the boy's neck and pulled him closer until their noses were touching. James blinked slowly as Connor's eyes remained at a lazy half-opened position.

"Connor?"

"James?"

"Kiss me."

There was no way to prepare James for the vigor it was to be kissed by Connor McKinley. He felt like a fucking toreador being ruthlessly beaten by an all-too-powerful bull. Connor hand manipulated James into allowing him to access his small waist area and had then pushed into his skin with the edges of his fingertips, making tiny bruises. His head fit perfectly with James', and he used that to a great advantage. He teased him mercilessly, flickering his tongue over his lips in a way that sent sharp shivers down James' spine. Connor had pinned him up against a wall, holding James' hands above his head so he couldn't resist being kissed all the way down his neck. It was a religious experience for both boys, James having taken the Lord's name in vain at least thirty times, Connor having believed for the first time in his life that god may actually exist for there was no way in the universe James' kisses were normal. They were like electric waves maneuvering themselves and connecting the boys closer and closer and closer... James pulled away, panting.

"Come... to my room, Connor."

Connor took James' hand and followed him to his ridiculously childish sheets. They sat on the bed, hand in hand just thinking about each other and how many days they spent toying with each other's feelings. James started drawing circles on the inside of his roommate's palm with his finger. Connor was hit by a plague of chills. He took off his tie and wrapped it around the boy, bringing the two closer. Then he leaned into James' ear.

"You're gonna have a very special Hell Dream tonight."

"You know just as well as I do that we only get Hell Dreams when we're particularly naughty."

"And what's not naughty about this? You're seeing Chris, lying about my living status, and kissing me like there's no tomorrow. Very, very naughty indeed."

James closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He gripped Connor's tie and did the hardest thing he ever had to do.

"We can never do this again."

"And why not, my love?"

"Because you're meant to be with Kevin and I'm meant to be with Chris and this is just a stupid phase that'll be gone in the morning."

"Then enjoy it while it lasts, darling."

*

James awoke abruptly feeling like he had been choked to death. His hands flew around his neck as he gasped breathlessly for air. He couldn't take the pain anymore. He wanted to scream and shake his head and make it all go away but by now he knew he couldn't. He just had to wait there like a small child until someone came and rescued him. He couldn't even ask for help. He had forgotten what to do. What did it mean when the skeletons poked him with their sharp sticks that made him bleed a deep red blood? What was he supposed to say to his sister who glared at him with a look of disappointment and vengeance in her eyes? Who saved him in the end? It had been so long since he'd been here, so long since he had to deal with Satan's obnoxious cackle. Maybe this was it. Maybe this was his punishment for making out with Connor. Maybe he deserved it, pain and suffering and all. A pair of skeleton hands pushed him into a scalding metal chair - the kind he'd sit in when at Elder Green's study group as two figures arrived holding hands. He could easily make them out and his heart panged when he was forced to watch Kevin and Connor make out over and over again. Suddenly the chair broke and he was just left sitting in the floor, all tied up and useless; a sobbing mess. He made his way up only to be pushed down by a huge Elder Green who made faces at him and kicked him until he was bruised and bloody. James Thomas would rather die than have a Hell Dream this bad again.

Out of nowhere, a pair of arms grabbed him, only comforting this time. They held him just the way his sister did before she died.

"Breathe, my love. Nothing is going to hurt you now, I promise," Said Connor in a seductive yet sweet tone.

_Except you,_ thought James. _You're going to drive me to the ends of this earth with insanity and the longing to kiss you again. You're going to break me down bit by bit until I can't continue to live anymore. You're going to hurt me the most - without even noticing a thing._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not gonna lie, I have no idea where this came from. This is not how I intended on writing the chapter. It was spectacular, though how the characters wrote themselves and had their own ideas as if they were really alive. I have a plan for this fic and I haven’t even gotten to it yet, so this fic might be a long one. I understand that some people don’t like reading chaptered fics so when I’m done, I might just make one mega fic combining all the chapters. Lastly, I’m terribly sorry about the slow chapter updates but thank you to those who enjoy this fic. I love reading all your comments!


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